Some Guys Have all the Luck
by Akenaten
Summary: Chapter 16: Jones and Lara go to the Merovingian to claim a favour. Please R and R!
1. Chapter 1

Some Guys have all the Luck

Disclaimer: We do not own the Matrix, the Matrix owns us.

Authors Note: This is a story that smithsbabe65 and I decided to co-write, for we felt that there were entirely too few stories out there that featured Brown and Jones as the main characters in them. We haven't forgotten Smith—he is in this story, but mostly as a secondary character.

So for all you Brown/Jones fans out there, rejoice, for at long last, the two subordinates of Smith will have their moment in the sun and step out from behind Smith's shadow!

As always, please read and review! The story is rated "R" because there will be explicit adult situations in later chapters and things will get very steamy….

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"Oh my God, he's here!" shrieked the receptionist to Lara's right. "Is my hair OK? I knew I should have worn it up. Do I have lipstick on my teeth?"

Lara Rodgers sighed and tried to force herself to get back to matters that were truly important, like the still-untyped memo that had been given to her earlier that morning by her good friend, Celia, who also worked in the secretarial pool. Both of them had been working at the Agency Building for several years but unlike Lara, Celia had found her employment challenging but rewarding.

The enthusiasm of the girl next to Lara could only mean one thing: Agent Smith, the leader of the agents, was on his way to work. And if hewas coming, then that meant that Agents Brown and Jones were with him.

Unlike most her female co-workers, Lara was not infatuated or attracted to Smith in any way. Agent Jones, however, was a different story. While the other women gazed and drooled over Smith, Lara's focus and subtle covert glances always went to his largest subordinate. Even baby-faced Agent Brown had his following of female admirers but to the best of Lara's knowledge, no one but herself had ever given a second thought to Agent Jones. Even though he was a very fine specimen of manhood with a barrel chest and broad shoulders, he was always overlooked, fading into the woodwork as soon as Smith or Brown entered the same room.

Lara sighed as the enthusiasm in the room built up to almost a fevered pitch. That meant that Agents Smith and Brown were on their way upstairs, ready to give out the day's assignments. Accordingly, Lara's fellow co-workers were already jockeying for the best position to see and be close to Smith.

She rolled her eyes as Smith came into the room. He swaggers in here as if he is some goddamned rock star or the Mainframe's gift to women, Lara thought disgustedly. She watched in disdain as her co-workers flocked around him, chattering and noisily trying to engage his attention. How can he stand all the obsequious butt-kissing, she wondered. But then again, he probably lives for it--his ego is probably as big as the Mainframe itself.

"Excuse me," a soft-spoken male voice said at her elbow. "When you have a moment, could you prepare this for me, please?"

Lara turned her attention from Smith and looked up into the eyes of Agent Jones. She had never seen the largest of the agents without his customary dark glasses and his eyes were fascinating and alluring at the same time. Lara found that she could not turn her gaze away from the gorgeous green eyes that gazed back at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Agent Jones, I was distracted," she said, hastily fumbling for the most plausible excuse for gawking at Jones' superior. Damn, she cursed herself, now he probably thinks that I am another one of Smith's groupies, ogling him from afar with the rest of these other giggling, bird-brained nitwits

"I will get right on that, Agent Jones and I will bring it to your office as soon as I am done," Lara stated, her professionalism restored in a wink and she tried not to blush when Jones gave her a small smile of appreciation.

She took the file from his hand and for the briefest moment, their fingers touched. Lara felt her cheeks burn; she glanced up at Agent Jones and was surprised to see that he was as discomfited as she was. A presentiment that he just might feel the same way about her entered and left her head just as quickly. He is not interested in me. I am certainly not attractive enough to ever engage his attention except on a professional level, she thought despondently before concentrating on completing the task that he had given her. She glanced up but he had already left her cubicle.

Opening the file, Lara sighed as she rapidly perused its contents with her hazel green eyes. Just as expected, it was another set of the neat and orderly pages of Jones' field notes from the night before She could never understand why he felt the need to have her proofread his reports. They hardly ever needed corrections or editing of any kind. Yet, over the many years she had worked for the agency, she actually looked forward to receiving his paperwork nonetheless. In fact, Lara didn't mind in the least, if it meant that she could have some form of contact with Agent Jones.

Setting the file down on her desk, Lara reached down and pressed the button that turned on her computer. The familiar humming from the hard drive sputtering to life helped to muffle the sound of Agent Smith's gaggle of female admirers. When prompted to, Lara depressed the keys of her keyboard rather loudly as she logged on to connect to the mainframe network. Without too much trouble, she accessed the appropriate file and with a double click of her mouse, she began to work at an efficiently speedy pace.

"Hey girl, did you check out Brown? He's looking mighty tasty today, don't you think?" rang out a familiar voice.

Lara, who was completely immersed in her work, was slightly startled at the sound of someone speaking to her. With an annoyed groan, she tore her eyes from her computer screen to look upon the saucy face of her co-worker and best friend Celia Alvarez. Lara sighed to herself. It was usual of Celia to interrupt her like this, but Lara had known for a long time of her friend's partiality toward the youngest of the three agents and her penchant for bringing up his name whenever she could.

"Celia, can't you see I'm busy? Unlike you, I don't have time to be making googly eyes at Brown or any other agent for that matter. Besides, you should be ashamed of yourself: Agent Brown is hardly old enough to shave!" Lara teased, but then became serious. "I have to get these reports done so that Agent Jones can send them upstairs to the old man," she curtly informed her friend.

"Ah yes, the old man, by the way how is Archie these days?" Celia asked nonchalantly.

"If by 'Archie' you mean the Architect, then I wouldn't know. Ever since his divorce from the Oracle, he's become a sort of recluse, like Howard Hughes--only without the weirdness. He hides out in that office of his all the time surrounded by hundreds of TV monitors and sees no one, not even his three top agents."

"Shame, because he was a real hoot at last year's company Christmas party. Remember how drunk he got after Smith spiked the eggnog?" Celia asked.

With a sly smirk, Lara replied, "Oh yeah, I how could forget? But the best part was when the Oracle found him in the janitor's closet with the blonde bimbo wearing that red dress. You know the girl I'm talking about, the twit from the accounting department."

The memory of that night made them both giggle as the vivid recollection of their CEO with his pants around his ankles, hair dishevelled and red lipstick smeared all over his face came to mind. It was priceless.

As the two friends continued their sniggering at the Architect's expense, neither girl noticed that an agent had quietly moved into their vicinity.

"Don't you two have anything better to do than gossip? Ms Alvarez, I believe you still have some considerable filing to do, do you not?" seethed Agent Smith's unmistakable baritone.

His angry tone had instantaneously squashed the jovial chitchat between Lara and Celia.

With downcast eyes, Celia managed to croak out, "I'm sorry sir, I'll get to the filing right away."

"See that you do," he said menacingly. With that being said, Celia made her way to the file room as fast as her long shapely legs could carry her. Lara couldn't help but notice that in spite of his angry countenance, the scowling head agent still took the time to cast a leering glance at her best friend's retreating backside.

After Celia had disappeared from his sight, Smith then turned his attention to the mousy-looking secretary still seated at her desk and said, "As for you, Ms…"

That jerk, Lara thought miserably, he's forgotten my name again! You'd think that after ten years of working for him he would have the decency to know who I am!

Rolling her eyes, Lara knew that he would probably never remember. It wasn't that she wasn't a good and loyal employee; it was the fact that to someone like Smith she was totally invisible. The truth was that Agent Smith was a vain and superficial program that thought that a woman should be an ornament on his arm, nothing more. Judging from his taste in female companionship, the best the Lara could ever hope to be is the little pine tree shaped air freshener that hangs on people's rear view mirrors.

I'll never be someone's ornament. If a man can't accept me for what good Lord gave me then he's not worth having, she thought defiantly. I won't stoop to the level of some of these stupid girls I've seen him with. Botox Barbie dolls is what they are, all pumped up with silicone and collagen just to catch Smith's attention. And what do they get for all their pain and suffering? A one-night stand with that asshole then tossed out the next morning on their ass without even cab fare!

A small shiver of revulsion ran up her spine at the thought of even having that creepy Agent Smith touch her. Lara suddenly felt a desperate need to get him out of her cubicle. His looming presence made her feel even more claustrophobic in the already crowded and small workspace.

Lara quickly told him her last name for the umpteenth time, "…Rodgers, Agent Smith. Lara Rodgers."

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Agent Jones was in a pensive and reflective mood. Absently, he twiddled his pen between his fingers, deep in thought. He had been, albeit unsuccessfully, trying to keep that morning's encounter with Lara at bay but to no avail.

Cut it out,he thought to himself. By the way her attention was focused today, she has her eye on Smith. She hardly even noticed me, I am sure of it. But I, on the other hand, cannot say the same.

Lara was not what a man would call even moderately pretty or attractive, but she had qualities of her own, both internal and external, that stood out nonetheless to the largest of the three agents.

Quit thinking about her,he admonished himself glumly. Whenever Smith is in the room, I might as well be invisible. Angrily, he threw his pen like a dart across the room and watched with dismay as it shattered the only window to his office. Shit.

Jones sat for a long time staring out of his broken window. Buck up pal,he thought. At least you will see her again; after all, she has to bring your report back. Not long afterwards, he heard gentle and quick footsteps coming down the hall towards his office. He straightened his tie and twitched his jacket into order just in time to see Lara knock on his door lightly.

"Agent Jones? I have your….what happened to your window?" Lara asked, concerned and surprised. She glanced at the broken shards of glass that lay scattered on the floor. "Are you all right?"

Because Jones' office was not big, Lara felt dwarfed by being in close proximity of the large agent in such a small room. To her, it seemed that he dominated any room that he was in, regardless of the size of it. Lara bent her head down and she was glad her hair partially concealed her blushing face.

"It's all right, Ms. Rodgers, I will fix it later." If I didn't know better, he thought, I'd swear that being here with me is making her nervous. Like most petite women, perhaps she is intimidated by the closeness of large men like myself. Why? I'm not going to hurt her. Or, perhaps she is nervous because she is shy? On seeing the window, she _did_ ask if I was all right, he recalled with a flash. Was she concerned that I might be hurt and more importantly, would she care if I had been?

He never got the chance to pursue that line of thought further for just at that moment, Agent Smith stopped at the doorway. "Jones," he said, "I need to have the report of our last assignment _now_." His cold suspicious gaze shifted from Lara to Jones. Like scolded children, they stepped away from each other and Lara hastily thrust the forgotten document she had been holding all this time into Jones' hand before scurrying out of the office.

Smith's eyes narrowed. If I didn't know better, he thought, I would swear that something was up with Jones and that woman. Normally Smith would have passed her by without a glance, but he recalled that she had been the only one out of all the secretaries that had not responded in any way to his presence that morning.

Jones shot an angry glare at his superior from behind his dark sunglasses. It's just like Smith to saunter in where he's not wanted, Agent Jones thought furiously. He wanted to tell Smith off in the worst way for running Lara off, but then thought better of it. This was not the time nor the place for such a confrontation. Smith's time would come, Jones was sure of it.

Extending his arm towards Smith, Jones offered him the file folder he had just received from Lara. "Here you go, sir. Lara, uh I mean, Ms Rodgers just brought me the report you require."

Damn, Jones recriminated himself, I almost slipped up. Agents never address agency employees by their first name, it wasn't proper protocol.

Agent Smith coldly ripped the manila folder out of Jones' outstretched hand and began to scrutinize the report inside for himself. After a few agonizing moments of silence, Smith looked up from the documents he was reading and gave Jones a small nod of satisfaction.

"Everything appears to be in order, just be sure that in the future you hand over your reports in a timelier manner. Is that understood, Agent Jones?"

Simmering with pent up rage, Jones tightly balled up his fists. He would love nothing more right now than to punch the smug smirk off Smith's rugged face and knock him right on his ass. However, there were other pressing matters to attend to. Giving Smith a quick nod, the hulking agent said, "Yes sir, I understand perfectly."

"Good," Smith said with an imperious tone, and then as he turned to walk out of Jones' cramped little office his sharp eyes fell upon the shattered window.

"What happened here, Jones?" he asked, curious to hear what lame explanation his oafish subordinate would come up with this time. Jones was known throughout the agency to be accident prone and clumsy. He was the largest and strongest of the agents, but he was not the brightest. He was all brawn and no brains and because of this, he didn't know the power his own strength. Smith had stopped counting all the times that Jones damaged agency property due his carelessness.

"Well Jones? I'm waiting," hissed the leader of the Matrix's agents.

Jones started to feel very uncomfortable as he scrambled to think of a plausible reason to explain why there would be a shattered window on the seventieth floor of a government building. The collar of his shirt suddenly felt ten sizes too small, so Jones started to tug at it in an effort to loosen the constricting garment.

Smith's eyes narrowed into two sapphire slits full of suspicion and loathing, his patience was wearing thin.

Finally Jones gave Smith his answer, "I'm sorry, sir. I was cleaning my weapon when it had accidentally shot off a round."

"I didn't hear a gun shot, agent," countered Smith with a challenging timber in is voice. Jones was lying, he just knew it.

Jones quickly answered, "I had the silencer on so no one could hear the gun go off."

A quick scan from Smith's visual sensors confirmed his suspicions; Jones did not have any trace of gun power residue on his person.

I knew it, Smith thought triumphantly. He is dumber that I thought. How could he think that I would believe such an outlandish mistruth? If he is lying about something as trivial as a window, what else could he be hiding? Perhaps there is something going on with him and that secretary that was in here earlier. What's her name, Lana or Linda something? Whatever it is he's trying to hide, I'll discover his secret soon enough. It is inevitable that he will slip up sooner or later.

"Very well Jones, see that it does not happen again. Have the maintenance department send someone up to repair this mess," he instructed.

Then glancing at his Rolex watch he said smoothly, "I am meeting someone for lunch, so I will be out of the office for a couple of hours. Could you try not to bungle things up in my absence?"

Agent Jones fought the sudden urge to walk over to Smith to tear him limb from limb. You prick, he thought. You really think you're something special because all of those bimbos in the secretarial pool. They wouldn't give you a second glance if wasn't for your fancy car and all that cash you flash around. The truth is: without the car, the money and the penthouse apartment, you're nothing more than just another balding, middle-aged program going through midlife crisis!

When Agent Smith finally vacated his office, Jones was full of rage and frustration. With an angry grunt and all of the strength he could muster, Agent Jones punched one of his powerful fists through what remained of the window, shattering it completely.

Fuck it, he thought to himself. Maintenance is going to replace the entire window anyway. It's on the company dime, so what do I care?

Angry with himself for allowing Agent Smith to get the better of him, Jones needed time to recompose himself. After many months of admiring Lara from afar, he finally had gathered up the courage to try to ask her out on a date. Today was the day, and he would now allow anything or anyone to louse up his chances with Lara, not even a supreme dickhead like Smith.

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In mid afternoon, Lara had had to take some of the more important files she had completed encrypting to the vault, most inconveniently located on the fifty-third floor. Usually Lara only had to take the elevator up to the seventieth floor where she worked and back down again at the end of the day. In fact, she took the stairs more often than not; it was no hardship for her to go up and down at least twenty flights of stairs in a day.

Lara grumpily accepted the fact that the elevator would be the fastest way to get to her destination before the vault was closed and locked down for the night. The elevator ahead of her was starting to close its doors. If I hustle then I can make it, she thought.

"Hold the door!" she called out, hoping the person inside would hear her and oblige. A large hand stopped the doors from closing at the last second and Lara hastened her step so that her saviour would not have to be inconvenienced by holding the doors open any longer.

She said a breathless 'thank you' to the man who had prevented her from having taking the stairs. "Thanks for holding the door, I really appreciate it," she said, relieved.

"No problem, Ms. Rodgers," came the reply. She turned around and looked up at the man who was the sole occupant of the elevator car. It was none other than Agent Jones. It appeared that he had been on his cell phone just as she called out and recognizing her voice, Jones had tucked his phone into his jacket pocket.

"Oh!" Lara squeaked and almost wished she _had _missed the elevator. Oh for heaven's sake, she chided herself, he's not going to bite. An image of his mouth on hers raced through her mind, causing the inevitable blush that spread over her face. With a loud clank, the elevator car began trundling its way upwards. Lara was shaken when the lift suddenly stopped between floors.

"Why did we stop?"

"When more than one human is unplugged at a time, the power drain affects our elevators for some reason," Jones said knowledgeably.

"How long does it usually last?" Lara asked, becoming more nervous with each passing moment. She hated elevators and did not try to take them too often. The walls always seemed to close in on her, making her afraid.

"It depends on how fast the Mainframe can shunt power to another capacitor to compensate for the loss. It might be a few minutes, though." Jones noticed that Lara swallowed and he caught the frightened look on her face. It was similar to the expression he saw on a rebel who had been cornered and had no way out and he felt sorry for her.

"Are you claustrophobic?" he asked quietly.

Lara nodded, but she was not brave enough to look at him. Most people usually laugh at me when I say that, she thought. At least I am not alone in here or I might be clawing at the doors to get them to open and let me out.

"I just hate being closed in this, that's all. Oh no!" she said fearfully. To add to her dilemma, the lights had gone out leaving only the dim security lighting in its place.

Something big in the Mainframe must have crashed or power would have been restored by now, Jones thought. But right now, his main concern was calming Lara down. Thinking she might be more at ease if he appeared to take this in stride, he loosened his tie and removed his sunglasses.

"We may be here for a while longer, so we might as well get comfortable," he said, lowering his large frame so that he sat on the floor. "Why don't you sit down too?"

Realizing that she could hardly continue standing there staring at the closed doors that would not open just because she wanted them to, she followed his example, primly adjusting her skirt as she did so.

Jones noticed that she still appeared to be scared. She was trembling although she had been trying to put a brave face on their current situation. He knew without a doubt that his agent strength would have enabled him to easily pry the doors apart with his bare hands, but this was the first time he had been able to speak to Lara openly--without interruption or witnesses--and Jones was determined not to blow this timely chance at asking her out.

"It's OK, Ms. Rodgers," Jones said, patting her lightly on the back, using what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I'm sure we'll be out of here soon." But hopefully not too soon, he thought rebelliously. He was relieved that she did not flinch or recoil from his touch; instead, she leaned against him and he put his arm around her. Almost immediately, he observed that her heart rate and respiration went down.

"Feeling better?" he asked kindly. He felt responsible for her well-being and wanted to reassure Lara that she had no reason to fear being alone with him. It made sense to Jones that the more comfortable and at ease she was now, the greater probability her answer to his suggestion for a date would be yes.

"Yes, thank you. Aren't you going to be late to wherever it was you were going?" A girl could certainly get used to being held by you, Agent Jones, Lara thought. Even though I am a grown woman, I feel safe and protected here with you. As long as you are holding me, I hope those damn doors don't open anytime soon.

"I had a meeting with Smith, but it looks like I am going to be late." But I don't give a damn about any meeting with Smith right now, he thought. She is allowing me to get physically and emotionally closer to her than we've ever been during our entire acquaintance and everything else can go to hell for all I care.

Lara knew that Smith had a reputation for being very harsh with anyone who kept him waiting. She cringed at the thought of ever finding herself in that situation.

"He is such a hard-ass," she mused. Realizing that she had spoken her thoughts aloud, she was initially afraid that she might have angered or irritated her companion but when she looked at him, she was surprised to see that Jones was amused, not angry.

"I'm so sorry. That just came out. I shouldn't have said it…"

"Relax, I don't mind. Besides, he _is_ a hard-ass," he replied. And I could think of a few worse words than that to describe him, including the fact that he is the Matrix's biggest prick. Now is my chance to see what she _really_ thinks of him.

"What do _you_ think of him?" he asked innocently. "Do you like him?"

"Me?" Lara exclaimed. "Hell no! He….he gives me the creeps, to be honest."

Very interesting, Jones thought, his eyebrows rose slightly at the emphatic way she denied finding his superior attractive. This opens up many possibilities, he thought, a small glimmer of hope sparking inside of him. "I've always thought that the entire secretarial pool was enamoured of him," he said guilelessly, waiting uneasily for her answer.

"Not me. With the exception of my friend Celia, those other women are a bunch of morons," Lara stated emphatically. "I, frankly, just don't see him as being the least bit attractive."

"Really? I am curious why you don't think he is good-looking?"

"He's too skinny for one thing and that severely receding hairline definitely does _not_ do anything for him, in my opinion. And that voice of his? It gives me the shivers every time I hear it and not the good kind either. He sounds like a machine. Inhuman and cold. Just like those creepy eyes of his."

A shiver coursed through her as she remembered the look that he had given her earlier that morning. Automatically, Jones' arm tightened around her and Lara nestled closer as if that could keep her revulsion of Agent Smith at bay.

"Well, we are not human either," Jones said reasonably.

"Yes, that is true, but with Smith, it's different. Neither of us moves nor talks as if we are robots, but he does. In spades. I don't know how you can stand it, being so close to him every day. I wouldn't be able to do it, that's for sure. He scares me," she said quietly.

Go on man, Jones thought to himself. Just ask her out—you know she is telling you the truth about how she feels regarding Smith. Ask her! If she turns you down, at least you gave it a shot.

"Ms Rodgers…I mean, Lara, would you….would you like to go out with me?" he asked softly.

"What?" As his words permeated her head, Lara found that she could not say 'yes' fast enough. "I'd like that very much, Agent Jones." Did he really just ask me on a date or am I dreaming, she thought giddily.

"Where would you like to go?" Not having asked a woman on a date in a long time, Jones knew his skills in romantic interactions with the opposite sex was sadly lacking.

"How about dinner? Or a movie?"

"We could do both," he said eagerly, anxious to spend as much time with her as possible away from the office, where they could get to know each other on a level that would otherwise be impossible.

"That sounds great," she replied with a smile. "How about you pick the restaurant and I pick the movie?"

"You've got it," Jones said, looking back at her. He tried to smile but it had been a long time since he had done so and as a result, his smile looked like a grimace more than anything else. However, Lara did not notice. All she saw was the intensity of the gaze from his warm green eyes.

I don't even care if the movie she picks is some tear-jerker chick-flick, I'll gladly sit next to her anywhere, anytime, Jones thought. "I'll pick you up at your place around seven tomorrow."

Realizing he did not know where she lived, he sheepishly asked her for her address. Lara did not have her purse with her so she asked Jones for a pen and paper. She hesitated for the merest millisecond before writing down her email address as well before handing the note back to him. He folded the piece of paper and put it in his breast pocket. Since it would be Friday tomorrow, they would not have to go into work on Saturday and their date could last as long as they both wanted it to.

Lara and Jones caught one another's eye and stared at each other until the spell between them was broken when the elevator chugged back to life. Jones helped her to her feet as they waited for the doors to open.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Lara said, before turning away in the direction of the vault, humming happily to herself. She did not even mind the long walk upstairs to the floor where the secretarial pool was located. Catching a glimpse of herself in one of the office windows, she paused and took a good long look at her reflection.

A woman in her early thirties stared back at her. Tendrils of mousy brown hair framed her face, while the bulk of her hair had been done up in a severe bun at the nape of her neck. My glasses make me look like somebody's maiden aunt or a school librarian, she thought. My mouth is too wide and my nose is too big. Lara sighed as she continued to look at herself.

As for my figure, it has more promise. I am slender but not skinny, with ample curves in the right places. She took a breast in either hand and felt the weight of their fullness. Definitely a C cup, she thought with more than a little pride. A generous handful for any man to caress or suckle, she thought, closing her eyes for a moment and imagining what it would feel like to have Jones do either to her. Lara allowed her imagination to run wild with the idea before calling herself to the unflattering task of analyzing the rest of her body.

My butt is not too big nor is it flabby in any way, she thought, looking at the side view of herself with pleasure. That's probably because of climbing all those stairs. But I am still lacking that special quality in a woman that makes men turn their heads to do a double-take or emit a wolf whistle as I walk by. There are no two ways to describe it: I am a plain Jane, pure and simple. But the way Jones looked at me in the elevator made me feel special and more importantly, pretty.

There was only one person who can help me get ready for this date and make me look as beautiful as I feel right now, she thought, and that is Celia.

"Celia," Lara said eagerly a short time later, "I have a date with Agent Jones and I really need some help." She then told her friend all about what had happened in the elevator car and Celia's eyes sparkled. So the big oaf finally realized what manner of woman had been right under his nose all these years, she thought, smiling. It certainly took him long enough!

"Honey," Celia said, putting her arm around her friend's shoulder, "I'd thought you'd never ask!"

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As soon as Lara had left the elevator, Jones took the piece of paper that had her street and email addresses and read it over twice, committing both to memory. He discovered in his search for it that his cell phone had remained on during the entire time they were in the elevator. He had been on a call with Smith when he met Lara and Jones hadn't realized that he had never hung up. He put the received to his ear and listened, relieved to hear the dial tone. At least he didn't hear what happened between us, Jones thought thankfully.

But Jones was gravely mistaken: Smith had heard everything.


	2. Queer Eye for the Straight Girl

Some Guys Have all the Luck

Disclaimer: We do not own the Matrix, the Matrix owns us.

Summary: Celia takes Lara for her makeover to Mauricio, Celia's flamboyantly homosexual cousin who works a small miracle on Lara's appearance. Please read and review!

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Queer Eye for the Straight Girl

"Girl, are we gonna have fun or what?" asked an overly keyed up Celia. She had been referring to the moment when she and Lara could go back to her place to begin Lara's transformation from wallflower to smouldering temptress. This was going to be an extreme overhaul, but Celia was up to the challenge to help her friend.

After a few short moments, Lara answered with quiet uncertainty, "If you say so."

From the moment Lara had told her friend about her date with Jones, Celia had been bubbling with uncontained exuberance. Her large brown eyes had kept looking at the face of the clock that hung just above the elevator doors, wishing that its hands would move faster. However as the old adage says, "A watched kettle never boils."

The last few hours of the workday crept by at a snail's pace, and at this rate, five o'clock would never arrive. The girls tried fill the gaps time with idle chit chat and pretending to do their work until the long awaited hour when they would be released from their self imposed, albeit temporary incarceration. The truth was both Lara and Celia had finished what was left of their assignments ages ago thanks to their proficiency to do their respective jobs.

Then finally it came, the best part of a laborious day, quitting time.

With a collective sigh, the women of the Agency secretarial pool shut down their computers for the night and gathered their personal belongings before they were to exit the building.

"Come on dudette, let's get the hell out of here before that slave driver Smith asks us to stay behind and work overtime."

Sighing wearily, Lara said, "Celia, you read my mind. The last thing I want to do is run into _him_."

After slinging the strap of her plain black leather purse over one shoulder, Lara made her way out of her cubicle to follow Celia to the elevators. The only problem was they would have to walk past Smith's office and much to Lara's displeasure, his door was wide open.

Both she and Celia knew that this was Smith's nightly ritual. He kept the door to his office open on purpose so that he could get a gander at the secretaries and make his selection. He would pick out an unfortunate girl almost every single night in much the same fashion farmers choose animals for the slaughter.

Thank the Mainframe that neither she nor Celia had fallen prey to Smith's insatiable appetites, but one never knew when their turn would come. What confounded Lara the most is why Smith had never slept with Celia, she was certainly attractive enough. With her exotic Hispanic features and fiery disposition, she turned the heads of several male employees including an agent or two.

I guess the fact that she dresses like she shops at Hookers 'R Us doesn't hurt either, Lara mused. She knew that her friend's scandalously short skirts and low cut blouses had even made the Architect take a second look.

Lara on the other hand, although not necessarily unattractive, never felt she had the goods to garner the attention of any man. She was what most people would call a Plain Jane; hiding her beautiful hazel green behind a pair of thick glasses which made her seem even more invisible to the world than she already was.

That's the way I like it, if people can't see you then they can't hurt you, she told herself. It didn't help matters that she insisted on dressing a little behind the times with flower print dresses that did not compliment her figure at all. Although she was petite in stature, she still possessed very womanly curves. However, no one could appreciate her ample bosom, wasp like waist or round firm derrière under the matronly attire she wore to work everyday. The icing on the cake was her hairstyle. She had been wearing her lacklustre brown hair pulled back in bun for so long, that Celia was beginning to think that it just grew out of Lara's scalp that way.

"You really got to do something out that bun, hon. What are trying to do, make the cover of _Librarian's Monthly_?" Celia had teased her once.

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Now Lara offered up a silent prayer to whatever god was listening that Smith would not notice them as they made their way past his office. She and Celia were almost home free when suddenly…

"Ms. Alvarez, may I have a word with you?" Smith's voice rang out from behind them.

Damn, so close, thought Lara despondently. Then a sense of alarm washed over her as she thought worriedly, I wonder what he wants with Celia.

Both women slowly turned around to find Agent Smith standing behind them with his arms crossed in front of his chest and sporting an expression of displeasure on his face.

Uh oh, this can't be good, thought Celia. Smith hardly ever left the trappings of his elegant office unless he was on assignment or he was going to dismiss an agency employee after a thorough tongue-lashing.

"Yes Agent Smith, is there anything wrong?" Celia asked innocently. She tried to keep her voice light to disguise the uneasiness she was feeling.

Ignoring Lara's presence he began to verbally chastise Celia about her work performance or lack thereof.

"Ms. Alvarez, as you know, we monitor all of our employee's on line activities here at the Agency. It has come to my attention recently that you have been surfing the internet during work hours, which as you also know is strictly prohibited per the employee handbook."

"Agent Smith, I…," Celia began to say.

He had raised his hand in front of her face to silence her and said, "Save your explanations, Ms. Alvarez. I've seen the activity reports. Seems you have some very interesting places that you visit on line. The Victoria's Secret website for one, where you spend a considerable amount of the salary we pay you."

Celia felt a lump in her throat, which she quickly gulped down. Fear had paralyzed her usually sharp tongue. She could go a round with the best of them, slaying all who opposed her with her razor sharp wit, but she was no match for Smith, he was too damned intimidating. Added was the fact that Smith would seek retribution towards any one, especially a woman, who dared talk back to him made Celia shut her mouth from saying anything that might get her fired.

Lara was also fearful, for she too was guilty of similar offences. Using the company computer to conduct personal business, and making long distance phone calls to her mother in Canada were also things frowned upon at the agency that employed her.

Confident that he now had Ms. Alvarez' full attention, he arched one of his eyebrows as he resumed his verbal tirade, "Then there are the Hugo Weaving fan sites where you spend hours downloading pictures. Now really, Ms. Alvarez, although Mr. Weaving is a fine actor for a human, does he really merit the time you give him? Time, may I remind you, which should be spent doing your job?"

Feeling as if she were about to faint, Lara was certain that her friend's dismissal was close at hand. Why else would Smith have singled her out? She risked a quick glance over at Celia and saw that her usually sun kissed complexion had blanched with trepidation and uncertainty. As her heart went out to her friend, Lara's mind filled with hateful thoughts of Smith.

You bastard, she thought unkindly. Leave her alone you creep. I guess picking on defenceless women makes you feel like a real he-man, huh? Well you are nothing but a great big loser in my book!

Celia by this time had closed her eyes as she cringed with the absolute certainty that Smith was going to give her the axe.

What he said next however, completely and utterly shocked them both.

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"Holy shit, Celia! I can't believe that Smith asked you out! Oh my God, it's Smith! Eww!" Lara said with a shiver of total revulsion.

Celia just sat in her seat on the subway car, staring off into space, too dumbfounded to speak. Only one thought kept playing like a broken record in her head.

_Smith asked me out._

_Smith asked me out! _

_Oh my dear God. Smith-asked-me-out! _

What made matters even worse was the she had quickly responded with a resounding, "Yes."

Her answer however was not the one she wanted to give. Celia desired more than anything to tell that skinny Icabod Crane wannabe to take his offer of a "date" and cram it up his ass. On the other hand, the fear of losing her job outweighed her need to keep her dignity so she had answered in the affirmative to save her skin.

"Oh Jesus, Lara, what am I going to do? I don't want go out with that asshole anymore than you do! I'd rather sit through a root canal, a slow painful root canal."

Feeling sorry for her friend's dire predicament, Lara laid a sympathetic hand on Celia's shoulder and said, "Don't worry girl, we'll think of something. We always do."

Warmed by Lara's reassuring gesture, Celia smiled at her as she responded, "Yep, we always do! Besides, tonight is not about me or Smith. We've got to get you ready for your date with that hunk, Jonesy!"

"_Jonesy, _eh? Since when did you start calling him that?" Lara asked with an amused tone in her voice.

"Since he asked out my best friend, that's when! Besides, I'm not blind to his positive attributes—he's got the shoulders and chest of a weight lifter and one nice rock-hard ass! Now come on, get your purse, our stop is coming up next."

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Agent Jones was burning the midnight oil, thanks to that blowhard, Smith. At the last minute, he had presented Jones with the insurmountable task to compile the past quarter's kill/capture reports.

When Jones began to protest, Smith had snidely informed him that the spreadsheets had to be on the Architect's desk no later than eight o'clock the next day and if they weren't, there would be hell to pay.

Jones' wrath was just simmering beneath his stoic veneer as he begrudgingly accepted his assignment. God, how he longed to thrust out his hand and snap Smith's scrawny neck in two. The sound of cracking bone would have been music to Jones' ears, but instead he glumly sat down behind his desk as he watched a very smug Smith walk out of his office.

Arrogant bastard, he thought. Your days as the cock of the walk are numbered Smith, just you wait and see.

Then with a furrowed brow, he strained to concentrate on completing the mountain of paperwork that still graced his already cluttered desk. Try as he might, however, he just couldn't keep focused on his work.

Thoughts of Lara kept creeping into his data processor, tantalizing his senses like the soft touch of a lover's caress. He couldn't help remembering how her lovely hazel eyes took on a deeper emerald tone when she had accepted his invitation. Her soft lips had curled up into a slight smile that made him weak at the knees. At that moment she had never looked more beautiful. He would give anything, anything at all, to make her smile like that again.

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"Mauricio? Hey, babe can you do me a huge favour?" Celia said into her cell phone. She and Lara were trudging up the street that led to her studio apartment in the heart of Mega City.

Who in the heck is Mauricio, Lara asked herself. Celia had never mentioned him before. What could my crazy Puerto Rican friend be up to, she wondered. God only knew what kind of harebrained scheme Celia Alvarez might have hatched up.

With a sense of anticipation laced with the fear of the unknown, Lara tried her best to keep up with her friend. Celia was almost a seven inches taller than the five foot Lara, and it was all in her legs. For every decisive step that Celia took, poor Lara had to take three.

Celia was still engrossed with her telephone conversation with the mystery man on the other end of the line to notice that her petite co-worker was practically racing to keep pace with her.

"Yeah, Maury, I'm almost at my place. I'm about a half block away. Just don't forget to bring all your stuff, okay? Remember sweetie, you owe me so don't you dare back out now!" Celia chirped into her phone. Then she ended the call by pressing the red "End" button on the cell phone's touch pad. Gingerly sliding the phone back into her imitation _Prada_ bag, Celia turned to a panting Lara and said, "Okey dokey, you're all set!"

"Set for what?" Lara asked in between breaths.

"For your make over, you silly girl! Mauricio is my cousin. He's going through beauty school right now and he doesn't have his license, but he is good. Trust me, okay?"

"Celia, I don't know. I haven't been to a salon in almost ten years, not since they did that awful perm and they supposedly were experts. Now you want me to place myself in the hands of someone that is still going to school?" Lara wailed with exasperation.

"_Chica, _you are such a worry wart! My cousin is great! He does the hair and nails of my entire family and you've seen how great we all look! Jesus, Lara, live a little! Take a chance. You're not that frightened little girl from Ontario anymore! There's a hot mama underneath that school teacher exterior and it's time she comes out!"

Sighing with resignation, "All right, you win, but if I come out looking like a French poodle, I'm going to kill you!"

Celia flashed a brilliant smile at her worried friend as she said confidently, "I wouldn't call the coroner just yet, if I were you."

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Mauricio Perez had been waiting for his cousin Celia on the stoop in front of her modest apartment building. The bag that contained all of his beauty school supplies was heavy and the strap was digging painfully into his shoulder.

He was a tall lanky man with olive-color skin, dark piercing eyes and a hook-like nose. Mauricio's features were exotic to say the least and resembled those of an Indian maharaja rather than a gay Puerto Rican. His long jet-black hair was slicked back and tied up neatly into a ponytail that ran down to the middle of his back.

Mauricio was modestly dressed by his standards in a black pair of button fly jeans and crisp white cotton shirt. He usually paraded around in garish bold outfits by day, then in his beautiful high fashion designer dresses by night. Mauricio knew that he was burning the candle at both ends, trying to put himself through beauty school by moonlighting as a drag queen, but it would be all worth it when he had his own high-end salon.

When his eyes saw Celia turning the corner he yelled out, "It's about time, girl! I was getting ready to go back home!"

Celia shouted back, "You better not, or I'll kick your ass, Miss Thing."

Lara wondered if the shared hostility between the cousins was genuine. She soon got her answer and was very relieved when she saw Celia give her cousin a sisterly hug.

"Why do you have to be such a bitch, _Creepella_?" Mauricio mused.

"For the same reason you are, you god dammed queen!" Celia replied with mirth in her tone. Then turning to her friend she quickly made the introductions.

"Maury, this is Lara. Lara this is Maury, our saviour."

"_Dios mio,_Celia. I'm not the Second Coming you know. The last time I checked I don't walk on water!" exclaimed Mauricio as he flapped his arms about flamboyantly.

Then Mauricio stepped off the stoop and began to walk around a suddenly shy Lara. She tried to shrink away from his dark probing eyes as they scanned every inch of her. She in turn just stood on the sidewalk apprehensively biting her lower lip. He said nothing during his inspection, which made Lara very nervous.

God am I that horrible that he has to give me the once over like a drill sergeant, Lara wondered desperately.

Then much to her surprise Mauricio stopped right in front of her gently placed his hands on her shoulders and said excitedly, "Sweetie, you definitely need some work, but I have a good foundation to work with. You've got good bone structure and your eyes are gorgeous. There are the eyes of a tigress, yes they are!"

Relieved, Lara gave him a shy little smile and said, "Thank you."

Turning away from her he addressed his cousin, "We don't have a moment to lose! I want to get started right away!"

Swivelling back around to face Lara, Mauricio placed his long elegant fingers under her chin he said with a smile, "Don't worry, doll. Consider me your fairy godfather. I'll take good care of you."

"_Fairy_ is right," Celia murmured to herself.

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Mauricio had never spoken truer words. He had taken good care of Lara, not that it had all been painless however. The waxing and tweezing of Lara's unkempt eyebrows had stung like the dickens, but the Brazilian bikini wax had been indescribably excruciating. A woman should be given general anaesthesia before having her pubic hair torn out by the roots, Lara thought disdainfully. Her nether region was still throbbing from the after-effects.

The waxing experience aside, Mauricio had worked on her quickly like a man possessed. A dye job here, hairs trimmed there. Then she received a deep facial scrub and mudpack followed by a full service pedicure and manicure. To Lara's frustration she was not allowed to look at herself in the mirror, and worst yet her glasses had been taken from her. Luckily she was slightly nearsighted so she could still see somewhat. However judging from Celia's exclamations and reactions to her friend's metamorphosis, Mauricio was doing a good job.

After nearly four hours, it was nearly time for Lara's unveiling. Mauricio was putting on the final touches of make up, then stepped back to survey his handiwork, "Honey child, you are flawless, simply flawless. I have to say it's the best work I've ever done."

An astonished Celia chimed in, "Cuz, for once I have to agree with you. You're an artist! A fucking Michelangelo, that's what you are!"

Lara had grown anxious to see what had been done her, especially after hearing what Celia had to say. She was fidgeting in her chair like a hyperactive child, dying to be handed a mirror.

Celia was grinning from ear to ear; she could hardly conceal her enthusiasm when she yanked Lara off of her perch and stood her in front of a red velvet curtain that draped a full-length mirror.

With glittering eyes, she looked upon her transformed friend. Squeezing Lara's hand with her own, Celia asked, "Are you ready to see the new you?"

Lara was barely able to speak. She felt her circuits going haywire and she couldn't help thinking that her system was about to crash from the excitement. She took in a deep breath and nodded quickly.

Needing no further encouragement, Celia tugged away at the velvet curtain and removed it from the mirror with a flourish.

"Ta-da! Say hello to the new and improved Lara Rodgers!" Celia announced happily.

As stared at her reflection, Lara had been rendered speechless. The woman peering back her from the other side of looking glass was completely unrecognizable. Gone was the bookish secretary with the god-awful hairstyle. Instead there stood an auburn haired goddess with bejewelled emerald eyes.

My God, I don't remember my eyes being this green before, and my new hair color is so rich and so vibrant, she thought in wonderment. She also noticed that Mauricio had given her a more contemporary hairstyle with some soft layers that framed and complemented her face.

Lara was extremely pleased that Maury had not been heavy-handed in the least with the cosmetics. The make up he had applied perfectly matched her complexion and he even did a good job of concealing the tiniest of flaws. As she continued to admire her reflection, she mused, Celia was right, Mauricio _is_ an artist! If she didn't know better, she could have sworn that he manipulated the Matrix code to bring about her transformation.

"Well? What do you think? Do you like it?" Mauricio asked hopefully.

Twirling around, Lara quickly scooped up the man that had been responsible for her newfound beauty into her arms and squeezed him tightly. With tears of happiness stinging her eyes she said joyfully, "I love it! Thank you so much!"

Laughing, Mauricio slightly pulled away from Lara's embrace to hold her at arms length. When he noticed the tears, he quickly removed a neatly folded handkerchief from his shirt pocket and began to carefully dab at her eyes.

Gently he cooed to her, "Hey, Sunshine, what's with the waterworks? Don't cry sweetie, or your mascara will run. If you keep it up then you'll look like Rocky Racoon and we don't want that, do we?"

His attempt at humour brought on a smile that lit up her entire face. Mauricio smiled back when he saw Lara's inner beauty shine through that smile. She looked radiantly gorgeous.

"Hey don't I get a 'thank you'? I _am_ the one that got you two together in the first place!" Celia piped up all of a sudden with mock anger.

"Oh Celia," Lara said reassuringly, "You know that I wouldn't have even gone through with all this if it weren't for you."

Reaching over she grasped her friend's hand in a gesture of gratitude.

"Okay, enough with the love fest. There's still one more problem we have to fix and it's a big one!" Mauricio chimed in like a mother hen.

Perplexed, both women turned and stared at him as Celia asked, "What problem? She's perfect!"

With a snap of his fingers and a twist of his wrist, Mauricio starting move his head back forth as if he were experiencing whiplash.

Ignoring Lara, Mauricio lashed out at his cousin, "Listen little Miss Fix-It, her face may say _Max Factor_, but the dress screams _Salvation Army_! I'm not going to let all of my hard work go to waste if she insists on dressing like she shops at the flea market! It simply won't do!"

Celia also began to speak about Lara the third person. It was as if she weren't even in the same room with them. "Well what do you suggest, Ru Paul? Dress her up in one of your frocks that you try to pass off as _haute_ _couture_?"

"Watch it Celia, I don't have time for any of your drama! Lord knows I have enough of my own!" Maury said wistfully as he fanned his face with his hands.

"Okay, I'm sorry," she apologized. Then as if she had had an epiphany Celia clapped her hands together and said, "Oh, I know! I could lend Lara one of my outfits. You know that I've always had sense of style."

"Yeah, for a streetwalker," Mauricio muttered under his breath, trying to keep his off-the-cuff remark to himself. However thanks to Lara's keen sense of hearing, she had heard every word, causing her to laugh out loud.

"What did you say?" Celia asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Mauricio answered innocently as he looked over at Lara and gave her a quick wink. Then with the confident strides of a runway model, he sashayed over to Celia's walk-in closet, dramatically threw open the doors to take a peek inside.


	3. Humiliation of the Highest Degree

Humiliation of the Highest Degree

Disclaimer: We do not own the Matrix, the Matrix owns us.

Authors' Note: This story is co-written by smithsbabe65 and me and we would like to thank all those who have taken the time to read our little epic. Please continue to read and review!

Summary: Lara's transformation has an unendurably erotic effect on Jones and as a result, he takes some advice from Smith and humiliates himself as his actions are broadcast over the PA system.

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Riding into work on the subway the next morning Lara had nervously asked her friend, "Do I look all right, Celia? Do you think Jones will like all this?"

"Honey, if he liked you when you looked like Madame Librarian, then he's going to absolutely adore you now! Girlfriend, you are now a certified a knock out, and if Jonesy can't see that, then he needs to get his visual sensors checked! Didn't you notice how all those guys at the construction site hooted and howled at you?" Celia answered with a smile.

Lara smiled back. She knew that her friend was right about one thing, her altered appearance had quite an affect on men this morning, human and program alike. Much to her pleasant surprise, not only were the men giving her a second glance, Lara had even gotten a few wolf-whistles as she and Celia rushed to the subway station to catch the L train.

Still worried about what Jones' opinion would be, Lara pressed on, "And you don't think this outfit is too much? Don't get me wrong, I love the way this black leather mini looks on me and this top is gorgeous, but I think the boots are overkill!"

Lara's continued lack of self-confidence caused Celia to sigh with complete vexation, "Are all Canadians this much of a pain in the ass, or is it just you? For the millionth time, you look great! Better than great! The boots make your legs look longer and they look terrific with my black trench coat.

The whole ensemble makes you look dangerous and sexy. Hell, if I didn't know any better, you look just like one of those rebels the agents keep chasing all the time. Only you _want_ your agent to catch you, don't you?"

Suddenly a vision of Agent Jones flashed before Lara's eyes. In her mind's eye, Jones had cornered her after a hot pursuit, and there was no means of escape. He had Lara right where he wanted her, trapped and vulnerable. In her fantasy, a small shiver ran up her spine as Lara panted wildly trying to catch her breath. She imagined the sensation of his strong manly body crushing hers against the wall of some abandoned building. The thought of experiencing such contact frightened and enticed Lara all at once, forcing her to sigh deeply with pleasure. Then when she envisioned his large hand slowly slide up the length of her thigh, she trembled with anticipation.

"Hello, Earth to Lara. Come in Lara," Celia said as she snapped her fingers in front of her friend's face in an attempt to awaken her from her self-induced trance.

The sound of Celia's voice had wrenched Lara away from her sexual fantasies about Jones and not a moment too soon. They had finally arrived at their stop: the subway station located underneath the Government Agency Building.

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Celia and Lara had arrived to the office earlier than usual. Lara was still apprehensive about her makeover and did not want to cause a scene that would be perceived as a disruption by Agent Smith. Celia, on the other hand, wanted to make a grand entrance and show Lara off, but abided by her friend's wishes to keep everything low key until Jones had seen her.

Unfortunately for them, another agency employee had also decided to come in early, Smith's little weasel-like lackey, Jeffery Montgomery. Both Lara and Celia despised him as much as they did Smith. Montgomery was nothing more than a brownnoser, an agent _wannabe_ that had flunked out of the academy because he just couldn't make the grade.

Although his father had been an agent, Montgomery's programming had been deemed too inferior, substandard for agent criteria. However, due his father's former ties and close relationship with the Architect, Jeffery was given an entry-level position with the Agency as a favour.

Because of his ambitious nature, Montgomery had almost immediately sought out those in power and carved out a comfortable niche for himself by making a career of kissing Smith's ass. In many ways Smith reminded him of his father and to a young but misguided program like Montgomery, he was the epitome of agenthood. Since Jeffery never stood a change of becoming a full-fledged agent, he resigned himself to live out his dreams of agent glory through Smith's experiences.

Worst of all, Montgomery had become the company spy. The office staff and field agents alike had to very careful about what was said because one never knew when Montgomery might be eavesdropping on the other side of the wall. Nothing could be kept a secret if Montgomery was around, and if he knew, then one could bet their bottom dollar that Smith would soon know about it too.

Montgomery was under the misconception that the more information he was able to gather and disclose to Agent Smith, the longer he could be kept under the umbrella of Smith's good graces. As for Smith, he never did hold Montgomery in high regard, but the information gathered by his own personal mole had proved invaluable, thus he had granted the younger program "special" privileges in exchange for his loyalty and service.

However, the day would soon come when Jeffery would no longer be necessary, without purpose. As the lead agent of the system, Smith knew all too well that a program without purpose had to be purged, eliminated before it corrupted the Source itself. When Jeffery's time was up, Agent Smith would take great pleasure in carrying out the duplicitous program's deletion himself.

Hated but feared by every employee, Jeffery Montgomery was seen as a snivelling little weasel, and yet, he still wielded great power, power that was bestowed upon him by the very agent he served. Everyone knew that one negative word from Monty to Agent Smith meant immediate dismissal and or deletion.

"Aw crap, there's that toad, Monty," Celia whispered to Lara with disdain.

With equal abhorrence, Lara whispered back, "Great, I can't deal with his stupidity right now!"

"Don't worry, girl. I'll run interference while you make a mad dash for your cubicle. I'll distract him with my charms. Maybe I'll trip him or something."

Lara giggled. "You'd do that for me?"

"You betcha! Now go before he sees you!" Celia shooed her friend away then quickly made her way down the hall to intercept the office interloper.

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Just as expected, Celia found Montgomery in the break room getting first dibs on the array of fresh donuts and pastries that had been laid out for the employees that morning. Celia sneered with disgust as she observed the diminutive bureaucrat pluck a powdered donut off the serving tray and take a big bite out of it. The result of his gluttony was displayed all over his mouth in the form of powdery residue.

Swept up in a wave of nausea, Celia tried her best to suppress the urge to vomit. Instead, she quickly walked over to table where Montgomery had been standing with his back to her. She hesitated slightly then took a deep breath as she reached out with her hand and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

Startled by the sudden intrusion to his privacy, Montgomery whirled around to confront the person that dared to disturb him. However, much to his delighted surprise, he found that it had been Celia Alvarez that had tapped him on the shoulder.

Ah yes, Ms. Alvarez, he thought as a sly smile crept across his lips and eyes became riveted to the sight of her bosom. He couldn't help but stare at Celia's breasts since due to his short stature, Montgomery was eye level to her chest area anyway. Agent Smith's latest selection one hot tamale, he said to himself as his beady little eyes surveyed the bounty of Celia's full, voluptuous figure.

Licking his lips, salacious thoughts of Ms. Alvarez crept into his mind; I can't wait to hear all of the dirty details after their date tomorrow night. What I wouldn't give to be in Smith's shoes and get first crack at her myself.

Celia in the meantime had plastered on a smile that she thought would make her face crack. "Good morning Montgomery," she said in a sultry voice.

Montgomery smiled back and to her surprise, he greeted Celia in her own native tongue, "_Buenos Dias_, Senorita Alvarez."

However, his Midwestern accent only foiled his attempt to try his hand at speaking Spanish. Jesus H. Christ, not only is he a supreme asshole, he has to butcher my language too, Celia thought.

"What are you doing here so early?" he asked suspiciously. He knew that Celia was one employee that barely beat the clock every morning.

Celia lied, "Well, after what Agent Smith said yesterday, I wanted to get an early start on my work."

With a confident, shark-like smile, he countered, "I don't think that you'll have to worry about your job Ms. Alvarez. If everything goes well tomorrow night, then your future with this agency is assured."

You fucking little creep, you are just as miserable as your master, Celia thought with disgust. She fought the urgent desire to punch the lecherous little program right in the mouth. Instead, she reached over, retrieved a paper napkin off the table and handed it to him.

"You have some powder on your mouth," she informed him with a smirk.

In a flash, his face became beet red, flushed with embarrassment. Shit, the whole time I've had this junk on my face and she said nothing, he thought angrily. Then he said aloud, "Stupid bitch, you're lucky that Smith has asked you out. However once he's done with you, it will be my turn."

When Montgomery saw that Celia's eyes widened in horror, he smiled more broadly then said, "Yes, Ms. Alvarez, that's right! Agent Smith always lets me have his leftovers, and you, my dear, will be no different! You can be sure that I will thoroughly savour you spreading those gorgeous legs of yours for my pleasure!"

Then he turned on his heel and quickly exited the break room fuming and cursing as he went.

Celia just stood there for a few moments shaking like a leaf feeling hatred, and rage surging through her circuitry. Then soon afterwards, the icy grip of fear took hold of her body. The realization of her predicament hit her like a Mack truck No wonder the girls that had gone out with Smith never talked about their dates afterwards. Why would they? They would all have to admit that not only had they slept with the head of the agency, but they had been forced to submit to an encounter with his disgusting henchman. The thought of that little troll of a program slobbering and pawing at her caused Celia's body to quiver even more with revulsion.

Now that she knew the truth, the nauseous feeling came back with a vengeance. As she held her hand over her mouth, Celia ran to the nearest ladies' room, kicked open the door of the first available stall and began to wretch uncontrollably into the porcelain toilet bowl underneath her.

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Lara had been diligently clacking away at her keyboard, waiting for Celia's return. She glanced quickly at the clock above the elevator doors and soon realized that her friend had been gone a very long time.

Where could she be, Lara wondered. I hope Montgomery didn't try anything with her.

A few minutes later, Lara spied a visibly shaken Celia walking towards her cubicle. A sense of panic flooded Lara's system as she bolted off her chair and ran over to her friend.

"Oh God, Celia, what happened?" she pleaded, her hazel eyes wide with worry.

Celia smiled shakily at her friend as she replied, "I'm okay, it's just…"

"Just what? What did that little rat-fuck say to get you so upset?" Lara demanded.

Tears welled up in Celia's eyes, how could she possibly tell her friend what Smith had been doing to all of the women he had asked out over the years?

When Celia refused to answer, Lara gripped her friend's upper arms and began to shake her. "Tell me, goddamn it!"

With anger flashing in her dark eyes, Celia looked at her friend and said with a hollow voice, "You want to know? Fine, here goes! After my date with Smith tomorrow night, I'll be passed to Monty like a gravy boat at Thanksgiving dinner so he can have his way with me too!"

Lara was stunned and barely grasping what her friend was telling her. She knew that Agent Smith was a voracious womanizer, but actually allowing his pet henchman to have his sloppy seconds was a new low, even for him.

"Oh honey…" Lara began to say, but as she tried to comfort her friend, the rest of the secretarial pool started to trickle into the office. As the familiar morning clamour heralded the start of another workday, Lara and Celia tried to get back to their desks quickly but when Lara's eyes caught a hint of the solidly built man in a well-pressed black Armani suit towering above the crowd, she froze in her tracks.

"Jones…" she quietly said to herself as her eyes took in the vision of male virility displayed before her. Lara's heart began to beat wildly in her chest as her simulated blood coursed through her veins. She was nervous and yet tingly all over with excitement. The moment she had been dreading and anticipating was finally at hand, the moment when Agent Jones would see the butterfly that had emerged from the cocoon of frumpy clothes and a dowdy hairstyle.

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Agent Jones had stepped off a very overcrowded elevator then turned to walk down the narrow corridor that lead to the undersized space that was known as his office. Still angry over what Agent Smith did to him the night before his mood was sour, and it was written all over his chiselled features. As he had ridden the elevator to the seventieth floor, the scowl on his face and formidable presence had made the other occupants of the elevator car shrink away from him in fear, but he had been too self-absorbed in his own dark thoughts to notice.

Now he found himself trying to get to his cramped little office as expeditiously as he could to avoid running into his superior at all costs. He was in no mood to deal with him at the moment and could not be held responsible for his actions should Smith stir his anger again. Before turning towards the hallway, he cast a hopeful little glance towards Lara's cubicle with the expectation of getting a quick glimpse of her.

When he finally captured Lara in his sights, Jones' dark green eyes widened in surprise behind his sunglasses. Removing his shades to get a better look, he hardly recognized the gorgeous woman that was standing just a few feet away. Dropping his jaw in wonderment and disbelief, the large agent unconsciously began to walk towards her.

Lara in turn was smiling at Jones as she waited for him to approach her. For the briefest of moments, the world seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of them. Neither Lara nor Jones seemed to notice that a group of curious onlookers that included Agent Smith and Jeffery Montgomery had gathered around them.

When Jones finally reached her, he gently grasped her small hands in his two large ones and said, "Lara, is that you?"

Blushing furiously, she averted her eyes away from his admiring green orbs. "Yes, Jones," she answered quietly, and then added, "It's me."

"How did this happen?" he asked quickly.

Lara was instantly crushed, mistaking his hasty question as a sign of displeasure. However her spirits were suddenly lifted when she saw the mirth in the green depths of his dancing eyes as he stated happily, "You look very beautiful but then again, I've always thought you were."

"Thank you Jones," Lara said appreciatively as she continued to stare into his eyes.

Jones was bewitched by the intensity of her stare, which ignited a fire in his belly then slowly shot down towards the very tip of his roused manhood.

Agent Smith had also been captivated by Lara. When he had first encountered her, the head agent had assumed that she was a new hire. Now that the truth of her identity had been revealed to him, Smith did not know nor care how this marvellous metamorphosis had taken place, the only thing he knew that he liked it. He liked it very much. It was right then and there that he had decided that he would do everything in his power to thwart Jones and be the first one to possess this newfound beauty.

Well there's no time like the present, he thought snidely. Slowly Agent Smith sauntered up behind his much larger subordinate and waited for the right moment to interrupt the touching scene being played out in front of the entire staff of the seventieth floor.

"Agent Jones!" he barked out.

Jones upon hearing the voice of his hated superior whipped his head around and found he was standing directly behind him. Not bothering to turn fully around Agent Jones responded, "Yes, Agent Smith?"

"Don't you think you'd better get up to the Architect's office? He has been waiting for those spreadsheets. I suggest you do it quickly before the CEO's patience runs out."

Not wanting to leave Lara's side, Jones hesitated slightly He knew however, that no matter how unpleasant it was, he had to attend to his duties nonetheless.

Turning back to Lara, he asked her expectantly, "I'll see you later?"

"You can count on it," she replied with a smile.

With that, Jones slowly released her soft warm hands then brusquely brushed passed Smith to get to the elevator, almost knocking his boss over in the process.

When Agent Jones had finally disappeared behind the elevator doors, Smith turned his attentions on the newly transformed Lara.

"Good morning, Ms. Rodgers," he said silkily.

Lara had been too stunned to respond. Well I'll be damned; the son of a bitch finally remembered my name, she thought as she observed Smith retreat into the sanctuary of his opulent office.

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"Agent Jones, I see that everything is in order here, now leave me alone," the Architect commanded solemnly.

When Jones had arrived at the CEO's office, he had been taken aback by the Architect's haggard and unkempt appearance. Usually the older man kept himself well groomed and his office was always pristinely neat, however now the latter was far from true. Papers and dozens packages of pre-packaged foods were strewn about carelessly. The thousands of television monitors that covered every inch of wall space displayed nothing but snowy static and were clogged with a thick layer of dust. To Jones it appeared as if the janitorial department had not been up here in months.

Upon closer inspection, Agent Jones saw that what used to be a neatly trimmed beard on the Architect's face now appeared to be a tangled bushy mess. His clothes also appeared unlaundered and wrinkled. Jones also noticed that the Architect had suffered a dramatic weight loss since the last time he had seen him.

"Sir," Jones began, adding heartfelt concern in his voice, "is everything all right?"

"Jones, may I ask you something?" asked the Architect dejectedly.

"Yes you may, sir." Jones replied carefully.

"Have you ever been in love?"

Confused by this line of questioning, Jones inquired, "In love, sir?"

"Yes, damn it man, in love. Enamoured with someone so much that your existence is meaningless without them?"

"I don't understand, sir. Are you in love?" Jones dared to ask.

"Yes, I am. However, because of my stupidity, I've lost her and maybe for all time."

Jones finally understood that his superior had been referring to his ex-wife, the Oracle. It had come to the Agency's attention that Architect's former spouse had recently taken up with another man and was quite happy. However, when the news had reached the Architect, he had not taken it well.

"Jones, I usually am not known to offer advice, but please take this to heart: if you should ever find someone to love and if she loves you in return, don't ever let her go."

Immediately Agent Jones thought of Lara. Losing her would be the worst thing that could ever happen to him and he had no intention of ever finding out what life would be like without her in it.

Then a strange sensation washed over the large agent as he looked at this poor old program that had been decimated by love lost. Jones, for the first time in his long life, felt sympathy.

Without another word said between them, Agent Jones quietly exited the Architect's office, leaving the broken creator of the Matrix to wallow in self-pity.

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As Jones silently strode toward his own office, thoughts of Lara danced around in his head. She had looked so beautiful, so sexy making him feel the primal male desires of a wild beast that has caught the scent of a female in heat. Just thinking about her makes me hard, he thought worriedly as he felt his penis stir in his pants. If I don't stop this, I'm going to practically rape her the next time I see her!

He had tried to throw himself into his work, but he just couldn't concentrate as his mind always brought him back to Lara. When he had first seen her that morning he was aroused to the point where he would have loved nothing more that to slam her against the wall, hike up her already short skirt and fuck her senseless. He had pictured himself thrusting his engorged member into her hot wet vagina over and over as Lara cried out for more.

The image of coupling with Lara in such a frenzied fashion caused him to groan loudly. God, I want her so much, but if I act on my impulses then she'll think that I'm an animal or worst yet some deviant human that can't keep his urges in check, he thought glumly. Suddenly the Architect's words of advice echoed in his head. If he saw Lara tonight in this state, he would lose her for sure. Angrily he slammed his fist onto his keyboard crushing it under the weight of the blow.

Fuck.

As fate would have it at the precise moment that Jones had destroyed his keyboard, Agent Smith happened to be walking by his subordinate's office.

Without bothering to knock, Smith let himself into Jones' workspace to investigate the source of the ruckus he had heard. When he saw that Jones had yet again destroyed another piece of company property, Smith's eyes narrowed.

"Agent Jones --," he began to say, but stopped short when he saw the expression of frustration on his underling's face. Curiosity got the better of him so Smith softened his tone and asked, "What is the matter here, and what happened to your keyboard?"

Without caring what Smith thought of him, Jones quickly replied, "I broke my keyboard, okay? If it bothers you that much, take the cost of it out of my pay. Right now, I don't give a flying fuck!"

Interesting, thought Smith, he's obviously upset about something. Could it be that Ms. Rodgers has finally come to her senses and decided to cancel their date? That would certainly explain Jones' mood.

Being the ever-relentless program that he was, Agent Smith continued to pry. "Jones, what's bothering you? The reason I ask is that I cannot have a member of my core team bogged down with emotional problems."

When Jones did not offer a reply, Smith decided to play the only hand he had left. He appealed to Jones' bruised ego, so he lied, "You know that you are a valuable part of this team, Jones. Hell, you are one of the best agents I have."

Shocked by his superior's flattery, Jones stared at him in disbelief.

"Thank you sir, I think."

Now that the mouse had taken the bait, it is time to lower the trap, Smith thought deviously.

"Jones I know that I've been hard on you these last few months, but I only do it to bring out your full potential as an agent When I look at you, I see myself at your age. I just want great things for you, Agent Jones."

When Smith saw that Jones had been staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, he knew that he had a captive audience for the best performance of his career.

Confidently he continued, "I also know that you think that I am cold and unapproachable, when it is actually everything to the contrary. I want you to feel free to tell me what is bothering you, maybe I can help," Smith offered with mock sincerity.

Jones couldn't help but wonder, okay who in the hell are you and what have you done with Agent Smith? Could it be that I've been wrong about you all this time?

As he looked at Smith, Jones was filled with doubt. The head agent had been a thorn in his side for so long, how could he trust Smith now with this most personal of problems? Nonetheless Jones had to admit that he was in a quandary regarding his lustful feelings for Lara. Compared to Agent Smith, Jones was practically a fumbling novice when it came to women.

After a few moments of deliberating on the subject, he thought what could it hurt to get some advice on what to do so that this evening's date didn't end in disaster? Smith, after all, does have an extensive knowledge when it comes to dealing with the fairer sex. Perhaps I could benefit from the wealth of Smith's sexual experience.

"Agent Smith…" he tentatively began.

Smiling like a predator that has just cornered its prey, Smith asked in turn, "Yes, Agent Jones?"

"I was wondering if there has ever been a time when a woman has, uh -- how shall I put this?" he asked in a self-conscious tone.

"Go on Jones, I'm listening," Smith urged on. Yes go on, you big dolt. With every word you say, you are only tightening the noose around your own thick neck, Smith thought hatefully.

"Turned you so much that you felt as if you were going to pounce on her the minute you saw her again," Jones blurted out, afraid that if he hadn't said what he had to all at once, he would have never said it at all.

Jones' last statement caused Smith to chuckle deep in his throat before he responded, "Jones, Jones, Jones. Is that all that is troubling you? I don't blame for feeling the least bit amorous towards Lara, uh, I mean Ms. Rodgers. She did look rather fetching this morning, did she not?"

Jones eagerly nodded in agreement then said, "Then you see my dilemma! How can I possibly keep myself in control when all I want to do is …?" He cleared his throat and wondered how best to delicately express what he wanted to convey.

"…tear off her clothes and pardon me for lack of a better phrase, fuck her brains out?" Smith finished Jones' sentence punctuating with a salacious smile.

"Precisely! What am I going to do? Lara's expecting to see Prince Charming tonight, not Jack the Ripper!" Jones groaned with pathetic frustration.

"Well, my randy friend, there's only one thing you can do to keep your passions in check. Find a quiet corner and jerk off," Smith suggested casually.

"Masturbate? How could that possibly help?"

"It can help you in more ways than one. Not only will the act of self-gratification keep your lust at bay, but it will also prevent you from prematurely ejaculating when you finally do the deed with your date.

Imagine how embarrassed you would be if in all of the excitement you pop your cork before you're ready to. Take it from me, there's nothing worse than a dissatisfied woman in your bed. No matter how you try to make it up to her, she will never look at you the same way again."

What Smith had just said made some sense. In his present state, there would be no telling what I could do to Lara tonight; however, if I could somehow sate my hunger for her, then perhaps I could be the perfect gentleman she expects me to be.

"Thank you, Agent Smith, for your advice. However with my heavy work schedule, I don't know when I will fit the time in to 'take matters into my own hands', if you know what I mean," Jones said worriedly.

Smith gave Jones a friendly pat on the back and offered graciously, "Think nothing of it. I'm glad I could help. As for finding the time, don't worry about it."

Jones watched curiously as Smith placed his hand into the breast pocket of his jacket and fished out a key. The lead agent then placed the key into Jones' hand and said, "It's the key to the executive washroom. You'll have all the privacy you need to 'take care of business', if _you_ know what I mean."

Jones just stared at the key as if it were the Holy Grail, awestruck that Smith had entrusted him with it.

He then looked up and gave Smith a crooked smile, "Thank you, sir."

Smith smiled back, completely amazed at Jones' naïveté. This is just too easy, he thought, Jones couldn't possibly be this dense.

"Well I'll leave you to your duties, Agent Jones. My work here is done!" Again, he patted the shoulder of his large colleague in a friendly manner but Jones did not notice the miniscule addition of weight to the shoulder of his jacket.

"It's the price we have to pay for being men," Smith said jovially. "When we are aroused, it is obvious to anyone who looks at us from the waist down. With women, it is different. Therefore, it is imperative that you do this, Jones. All Ms. Rodgers has to do is look down…." He shifted his gaze downward and Jones understood him. "It is even obvious to me, you know. In addition, if she saw your state of arousal now, she would cancel your date in a second."

"Why would she do that?" Jones could not help asking.

"What woman wants to be alone with a man who outweighs her by a hundred pounds, towers over her by more than a foot and has an erection like yours? She would be afraid of being raped, Jones. It's as simple as that." There, Smith thought, that argument should drive my less-than-brilliant assistant to do what I want him to.

However, should Ms. Rodgers ever have a moment of insanity and decide to sleep with Jones, I'd better curtail any thoughts he might have on consummating the matter.

"While we are on the subject of intimate matters, Jones, I should warn you to have second thoughts if there ever came a time when the two of you decided to progress to the next logical step in your relationship." He stole a look at the confused expression on Jones' face and was hard put not to laugh.

"Let's examine the facts, shall we? Ms. Rodgers is a very petite woman and should be treated with gentleness and consideration, especially when it comes to having an intimate relationship with you. Look at yourself very carefully, Jones. As I mentioned, you are far taller and much stronger than she. If you ever tried to have sex with her, you would hurt her severely, if not permanently."

He let his remark hang in the air for a moment before saying it in terms that would be clear to his colleague. "The Architect designed us as agents to be larger than most men so we would be intimidating to our enemies. Need I remind you that that applies to _all_ aspects of our anatomy? If you end up having sex with her tonight or at any other time, you would rip her apart," he finished cruelly. "And I'm sure you wouldn't want to harm her in any way, now would you? I'm not saying this to be cruel, Jones; I'm saying I only have your best interests in mind."

As he turned around to leave his underling's office, Smith sported a smug look on his face. Before this day is over, you will be the laughing-stock of the entire agency. After today, the path will be clear for me to pursue the woman you fancy and use her for my own perverse amusement. And once I've tired of fucking her in every way possible, I will have the Architect sign the order to have her deleted. The best part will be when you, Jones, will be ordered to pull the trigger, and there's not a damned thing you can do to stop me! That idiot has no idea that I planted a bug on him, Smith thought, cackling malevolently as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation of what was to come.

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Jones stood in the outer room of the men's lavatory, staring at his reflection in the brass-framed mirror. I _have_ to do this, he thought morosely. I can't let things remain as they are now. As I stand here, the urge to possess Lara is quietened somewhat, but what will happen when we are alone together? What if she is dressed in something for our date that is even _more_ revealing than she was wearing this morning? Jones groaned deeply in frustration and slammed his fist into the marble countertop.

I've been in here for the better part of half an hour, he thought, glancing at his watch. Soon lunchtime will be over and someone will want to use these facilities. If I am going to get this done as soon as possible, I'd better start now. He sat down on a nearby stool and took a deep breath.

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"Come on, girl," Celia urged Lara. "We only have an hour for lunch! You need to buy something elegant and sexy for your date with Jones tonight and nothing in your closet even comes close to that! If we move our butts, we can get to that shop and back before lunch is over!"

Lara smiled, grabbed her purse and followed her friend out the door as they left the Agency building. With severe displeasure, Smith watched, via the security cameras, as the two women vacated the premises. That means she won't hear Jones humiliating himself, he thought viciously. Speaking of which, _I_ haven't heard anything either. It wouldn't surprise me if that overgrown Neanderthal hasn't done what I told him. Idiot. If he doesn't do it soon, he just might discover that amplifying comlink I planted on him. Just as Smith was about to seek out his associate, the unmistakeable sounds of a man moaning in the throes of full-blown lust came loud and clear over the intercom.

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Masturbating is like trying to tickle yourself, Jones thought, exasperated. You have to touch the right spot in the right way or it doesn't work. He had been trying for almost twenty minutes to satisfy himself but was only able to obtain a semi-erect member.

Terrific, he thought despondently. Now if I can only stay like this until after my date with Lara, everything will be fine. Lara. The very thought of her and the mental mention of her name accomplished in a fraction of a second he had been unable to do up until this point: his penis was now completely hard, the surge of desire suffusing his face and zeroing in on his groin, making it ache and throb with lust.

Fine beads of perspiration formed on Jones' upper lip and forehead and he closed his eyes, imaging that it was Lara who was stroking his manhood, not himself. Her soft touch would slide up and down his shaft, her fingers encircling his width, prolonging and heightening his pleasure with her warm, gentle hand. She would run her thumb over the tip, smearing his pre-cum over the head of his penis making it moist and slippery.

"Put your mouth on me," Jones begged, groaning loudly as he imagined what that would feel like. Her mouth probably would not be able take his member fully inside of her oral cavity because as penis circumference went, Jones knew that he was very wide in comparison to most men Several of his past female sexual partners had complained of his size in the past with none of them being able to deep-throat him for very long.

In his fantasy, Lara was naked, wanton and uninhibited as she straddled him with his rampant penis buried deep in her mouth. He was so close to his orgasm now and in his mind's eye, it was Lara who was driving him wild as he envisioned her enveloping his member with her mouth as his strong masculine fingers entangled themselves in her wild auburn tresses. Not wishing to gag her, his hands would reach down to caress her large breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers so that they would be hard and eager; heightening her pleasure by providing her with exquisite sensations of her own.

He growled deep in his throat as his hand moved faster and faster. "I'm almost there, I can feel it! Don't stop, babe! Oh God, it feels so good when you suck me off!" Jones moaned loudly, his mind focused solely on his fantasy image of Lara. His member began to jerk and twitch violently within the tight sheath of his large hand as he stroked himself into a fevered frenzy. With laboured breaths, Jones moaned with pleasure as he continued to drive himself closer and closer towards the brink. The very idea of having the hot wetness of Lara's tight little mouth sliding up and down his hard throbbing cock as he thrust inside drove him over the edge and he cried out her name as his penis spasmed uncontrollably, his semen spewing forth like boiling lava escaping from a volcano that had been dormant for too long.

The intensity of his orgasm took Jones by surprise and he rested the back of his head against the wall, panting heavily. He shook his clothes back into order so no one would suspect what he had been doing. Standing up and bracing his hands on the marble countertop, he took several deep breaths to quell the shakiness of his knees and happened to glance at his reflection in the mirror.

"Was it good for you too?" he asked himself with a wry smile. He reached over and picked up his jacket from the countertop and as he put it on, he did not notice a small electronic device dislodge itself and fall to the floor.


	4. A Coward and a Loser

A Coward and a Loser

Disclaimer: We don't own the Matrix, the Matrix owns us.

Summary: When Jones realizes that he had been bugged, he breaks his date with Lara, causing Celia to stand up for her friend and shame him into doing the right thing.

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Jones smoothed his clothes and jerked his tie into place before leaving the executive lavatory. There seemed to be more people than usual in the hallway; some were even craning their necks from doorways as he came abreast then whispering louder as he passed them. Jones frowned at the snickers and subdued sounds of mirth that was being aimed in his direction. Brown was waiting for him at the door of his office and he took the arm of his friend and colleague, steering him forcefully inside and closing the door behind them so no one could overhear.

"What's going on out there?" Jones asked, his brow furrowing with confusion. "Was there a joke that I missed or something?"

"Yes, there was a joke, Jones, and it was on you."

"What do you mean?" Jones asked nervously, his face flushing from remembering the reason why he had gone into the bathroom.

"Everyone in the building heard what you were doing in there, Jones," Brown said. "But not," he hastened to add, "Ms. Rodgers or Ms. Alvarez. They left shortly before what you were doing became apparent to everyone."

Jones looked into the face of his younger colleague and saw compassion, not ridicule in his expression.

"You mean to say that everyone who was in the building heard me when I was…."

"Gratifying yourself? Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm sorry, pal."

Mortification and humiliation spread throughout Jones' system, rendering him unable to say anything for a long moment. Had it been anyone other than Brown who was in the room with him, Jones would not have said another word. However, Brown was one of the few colleagues Jones trusted; more importantly, Jones knew Brown would not talk about anything that passed between them, even subjects of the most intimate nature.

"That son of a bitch set me up!" Jones snarled. "I should have known better than to trust him! Well, he's not going to get away with this!"

"Where are you going?" Brown asked apprehensively.

"Where do you think? I'm going after Smith."

"No, you're not," Brown stated, boldly stepping between the door and his furious friend.

"Brown, I don't want to hurt you but I will if you don't get out of the way."

Brown jutted out his chin stubbornly. "I'm not leaving until you calm down."

"Well, that's not going to happen until I pound the crap out of our so-called superior."

"Jones, think about what you are doing! If you go into Smith's office now, he will have you deleted! Is that what you want?" Seeing the livid look on Jones' face, Brown knew that he would have to try another strategy in order to prevent Jones from leaving. "I know how long you have wanted to go out with Lara and I know you have wanted to do it for years. If you are deleted or exiled, what will happen to her? Because of her altered appearance—albeit it for the better--she has definitely caught Smith's eye. You should see the way he looks at her when she is not aware of it. He wants her, Jones. If you are not here any longer, who is to stop Smith from turning his attention to her? Here, let's just sit down and talk this over, all right?"

Jones nodded and acquiesced to the urgings of the youngest agent. Knowing that he had the advantage now, Brown continued in the same vein. "Just deal with everything one day at a time. Eventually, this will all be forgotten when some other bit of juicy gossip makes the rounds; you just have to ride it out, that's all."

Easy for you to say, Jones thought, scowling, you weren't the one who was jerking off with everyone listening to every moan and worst of all, the cry I made when I came. How could I have been so stupid and listened to Smith?

"What should I do until it passes?" Jones asked glumly.

"Keep your head up and don't dodge the shots and remarks that will come your way. Don't let it get to you. You are an agent of the system. You are ruthless and one of best badass mothers I have ever seen in combat. You don't take shit from nobody. Act like it! Show 'em what you are made of, Jones. There's one thing I have to know, though. Why did you go to Smith of all people for advice? Why didn't you come to _me_?"

"To tell you the truth, Brown, I never thought you had had much experience with women and I felt I needed the advice of someone who did."

"So you went to Smith?" Brown scoffed. "Let me tell you something my friend, even though I may look a lot younger than you or Smith, I am certainly _not_ a virgin. Far from it. Okay, you made a mistake. You have to live with the consequences but I have to warn you that Smith will be watching for your reaction now that he knows you know what he did. He's just itching for an excuse to get rid of you. Don't give him a reason."

Brown paused for a while, thinking of another choice of topic that would take his friend's mind off getting his large deft hands around Smith's neck. "On another note, I found out that he will be seeing Cel—I mean, Ms. Alvarez on Saturday night and you know how _that_ date will end." It was Brown's turn to feel depressed and he stared down at his hands.

Jones welcomed the change of subject and the flush that appeared on Brown's youthful face spoke volumes to his listener. "I wouldn't be so sure, Brown. I have it from Lara herself that Celia will not sleep with him if she can possibly help it and she told me this _before_ Smith had even asked her out. She detests him."

"But you know how he is—every woman he asks out always ends up in his bed and then dumped the next morning. But if it turns out that she is really good in the sack, he might keep her for a week or a little longer. Eventually, he gets tired of them and goes on the hunt for someone new. He feeds them, fucks them and forgets them. In that order. What would really be a deterrent is if all those women that Smith has dated and dumped got together and threaten to sue the Company for sexual harassment. That would hit Smith right where he lives."

Jones nodded and grinned wryly in agreement. "It sure would. Smith might be able to intimidate a couple of them if they got together, but the entire secretarial pool? No way. Even the Architect could not ignore that; a class-action lawsuit would definitely hit him where _he_ lives—in his wallet. You like Ms. Alvarez, don't you?"

"Yes. What's not to like? She is beautiful, smart, spirited. I've always found her very attractive."

"Then why haven't you done anything about it? I admired Lara from afar and then yesterday, I decided enough was enough. Instead of continuing to dream about her, I asked her out and she said yes. The same thing might very well happen between you and Ms. Alvarez. You won't know until you ask. C'mon, Brown. Let's forget everything and drown our sorrows in a glass of good hard liquor. There's still some left in the bottle, I think."

Jones opened the bottom drawer of his desk and at the very back was a bottle of Jack Daniels. There were no glasses, but the two programs had shared alcohol in Jones' office before, with each taking a deep swallow from the bottle itself.

"So what do you think of Lara?" Jones asked, passing the bottle across the table to his friend.

"I always knew she had a great figure under those awful clothes she wears," Brown said, "and I was right, wasn't I? Damn, that woman's got a body! Don't worry, I'm not going to go after her; she's not my type." I prefer someone with a little more spice to her personality, Brown thought, his thoughts dwelling on the fiery disposition and sharp wit of Lara's friend Celia. Now _that's_ what I call a woman! She would be a handful for any man, I think.

When Brown had left, Jones leaned back in his chair before draining the bottle of its last dregs. He knew what had to be done now regarding his date with Lara. Jones was by no means a coward; he had been shot at point-blank range by rebels and never flinched from the oncoming bullets that he wasn't able to dodge for one reason or another. He could not bear to see her face when she found out what he had done and the image of her possibly laughing at him was too mortifying to contemplate.

Writing this text message to Lara was the hardest thing he had ever had to do and if he had had a choice, facing certain death from the business end of a gun would have been much easier in comparison.

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"How do I look?" Lara asked, twirling herself around in the store fitting room mirror so that Celia could see and admire her own handiwork from every angle. "I feel a bit overdressed. It's just dinner and a movie you know, not like we're going to the opera or something." I just wish that I could wear panties under this thing, but every kind of underwear the store had all left those damn lines. Celia said it spoiled the whole effect and she was right. I only hope Jones will not find out, for what would a man think if he discovered the woman he was going out with for the first time wasn't wearing panties?

The deep crimson colour of the fabric made her face glow with colour and gave her hair a burnished sheen that had never been there before. The dress itself was not revealing; it was high-necked and all of the fastenings ran down the entire front of it. It was Oriental in design, made of the finest silk and form-fitting, hugging every curve but not showing any glimpse of breast or thigh.

"Sweetie, you look absolutely gorgeous," piped up Celia from her vantage point. "If Jones doesn't try to at least kiss you at the end of your date, then he's got ice water running through his simulated veins. Either that, or he's gay." The two women giggled at the absurdity of that statement.

"Damn!" Celia cursed, checking her watch. "We were supposed to be back at the office by now! C'mon girl," she said, "we gotta hustle or we'll be late." In less time than she would have imagined, the dress was paid for and the two friends were back in their respective cubicles with only moments to spare. They discovered that they need not have rushed; hardly any of the other secretaries around them were paying attention to their work, with the sound of whispered conversations that stopped abruptly when Lara and Celia entered the room. However, as soon as she headed over to her cubicle, the buzz of whispered confidences resumed.

_What the hell is going on, _Lara wrote in her email to Celia.

_Damned if I know, _came the response. _But I am gonna find out right now. I have a few sources of info that I can tap into. Be back soon and I will fill you in on what I discover..._

After Celia had signed off, Lara tried, without success, to keep her mind on her work. Her upcoming date with Jones and her curiosity about the strange behaviour of her colleagues made her think that the two events were related in some way. This only made her edgy and nervous and concentration was impossible until Lara was able to learn for herself what Celia had found out.

After what seemed an eternity, Celia returned and Lara was apprehensive at the expression on her face. Her friend's countenance had never been so serious. Celia had obviously heard something that rattled her composure; which was something that had hardly ever happened since the two women had become friends.

"Hon, we need to talk. Come with me to the ladies' room." When she looked up, the faces of the secretaries that were nearest to her were expectant and all conversations had stopped abruptly in order to hear what was being said between Lara and herself.

"If you ladies don't mind, Lara and I are going to powder our noses," Celia said loudly enough for the entire room to hear, taking Lara by the elbow and almost yanking her out of her seat.

"What's going on?" Lara asked as soon as the restroom door closed behind them. Celia placed a finger to her lips and she crouched to peek under every stall door to make sure that no one was about.

"Sorry about that, Lara, but I had to be sure that no one was eavesdropping." She sighed and looked into her friend's eyes. How the hell can I tell her, Celia wondered. It _does_ have an element of humour in it, but if I know Lara, she will not see it that way.

"Is it…Jones? Has something happened to him?" Lara asked nervously. "Is it about tonight?"

"Just listen, OK?" Celia proceeded to tell Lara what had occurred earlier in the day….

"So that's it?" Lara asked incredulously when Celia had finished. "By the way everyone was acting, I thought Jones was dead or something." Lara turned away and looked at herself in the nearest mirror. I am responsible for what he did; he never would have felt the need to masturbate in the first place if I hadn't let Celia make me over. But deep inside, she felt honoured. Jones became so aroused and anxious at my transformation, he felt driven to calm himself down so that he would not be tempted to take advantage of me, to possibly force himself on me to satiate the lust my new look might have made him feel.

"He did it because of me, Celia. I have to find him, to tell him how proud I am."

However, before she could continue, she reached into her purse and took out her PDA. "Jones is text messaging me," she said with a smile. The other day in the elevator, she had given him her street address as well as her email address. Her smile faded and tears formed in her eyes. "Read!" Lara said, her voice choked with tears as she passed Celia her Blackberry so her friend could read what Jones had sent less than an hour earlier:

_Lara,_

_I have no choice but, unfortunately, I must cancel our date tonight. Please try to understand._

_Agent Jones_

Concerned, Celia read the message for herself. How dare he cancel their date, she raged silently. What a coward he is, caving in to pressure like that! Son of a bitch, I'm going to straighten him out right goddamn now!

"Lara, you stay here for a bit. I'll be back soon." Celia was careful not to let her friend see the true extent of her anger; Lara had enough on her plate right now without worrying about her friend on top of the cruel blow that Jones had delivered.

"Dry your eyes, honey, I'll settle this, you can be sure of that!" Celia stormed out of the ladies' room and headed to Jones' office. What kind of a man would send a girl something like that, she thought angrily, when he doesn't give any kind of explanation or reason. It was cruel and callous and I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind for sending crap like that to my best friend.

As she expected, the door was closed but Celia leaned over and detected no light underneath the door. However, a noise inside the office indicated that someone was inside and that could only mean that Jones was trying to hide. To hell with it, I'm not going to bother knocking. She yanked the door open and slammed it behind her.

"What the fuck was the deal behind that message? Huh?" Celia demanded. Her New York accent was more pronounced in times of anger or stress and if she let her guard down. Her eyes were hard and glittering like ice as she glared at Jones. "How could you do that to her? Do you have any idea, any comprehension of what she went through to get ready for tonight? No, you're only a man; you have no idea how much it hurts a woman to get her pussy waxed." Celia paused, mortified at what she had just told him. Hurriedly, she sought to get the rest of what she had to say out as soon as possible before she lost her nerve.

"Let me tell you something else Agent Jones: Lara is in the ladies' bathroom crying her eyes out because of what you did to her and I'll be damned if I'm going to just let you get away with it! Well? I'm waiting. What have you got to say for yourself?"

Jones could not meet Celia's gaze and after a long moment when the target of her diatribe did not make an attempt an answer or explain his actions in any way, Celia gave a sigh of disgusted exasperation.

"Forget it, Agent Jones. Just fucking forget it." She turned on her heel, her hand on the door handle. However, just before she opened it, Celia spoke again. "Lara really likes you, you know. But I guess that you care more about what assholes like Smith say than listening to your own heart. You like her, too, I know that. I also know that you are ashamed but if you turn away from her now, you will never find out if it could have worked between you. And that's the greatest pity of all. But I guess in the long run, you did Lara a favour after all, Agent Jones, by showing her what you are made of."

"What do you mean?" Jones asked quietly and even though Celia could not see him through the dimness of the room, she heard, in his tone, the sadness that had filled every digital byte of which he was comprised.

"You showed her, that despite your size, you have no backbone. You're nothing but a coward and a loser and you deserve to be alone until the end of your existence." Once outside the door, Celia breathed deeply, trying to quell the trembling in her body. In any other situation, she would have been petrified to address any of the primary agents using the words and tone that she did, but Celia knew she had had no choice: the welfare of Lara had to come first and the consequences be damned! Oh dear God, I can't believe I just called the second primary agent a loser to his face, Celia thought, horrified.

But if Jones is the kind of man I think he is, I fully expect to find an email waiting for me at my desk, asking for my help in rectifying the situation. If this isn't resolved before the day is out, I'll resign my position and go back to the mailroom where I started, but I hope to hell it doesn't come to that!

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Ms. Alvarez is right, Jones thought. I _am_ a coward. I let the opinions of Smith and the others who mocked and laughed at me today get in the way of starting a relationship with Lara, someone whom I have always wanted to ask out but never had the courage. I am tired of coming home after work and having no one to talk to, to always being alone night after night with nothing to break the silence of my empty life.

Like millions of his male counterparts, Jones was a workaholic who submerged himself in his work, and only his work, for the lack of a female companion to enrich and fulfill his existence. There was a void in his life and he knew it. It wasn't only an emotional need he had, it was physical as well. In his programming, he had needs that all men seek to fulfill. It had been years since his last meaningful sexual encounter, but Jones had alleviated his desires by burying them completely; strenuously working out until he was exhausted and the intoxicating sensation of sexual arousal evaporated. All agents of the System were strong, but because of the countless hours spent in weight training at the gym in the Agency building or in his apartment, he doubted that even Smith could surpass him in strength.

However, there were instances when physical exhaustion could not quieten the animal lust that still haunted him. Masturbation had eased his discomfort; however, while the act itself left Jones feeling satiated for the time being, he felt hollow and empty afterwards. From time to time, when he had craved the touch of warm feminine skin against his, he had sought out prostitutes to assuage his lust and while it worked in alleviating those demons inside of him, it was still meaningless.

He groaned in shame as he remembered the intensity of his orgasm earlier that day--how easily and quickly his penis became completely hard as sensual images and thoughts of Lara filled his mind. What it would feel like to suckle her breast until her nipple became hard in his mouth. Setting her mind and flesh ablaze with desire as he parted her labia with his fingers in preparation to bestow on her the most intimate act a man can perform on a woman. Feeling her fingers threading his hair, listening to her moans and whimpers of desire and longing as his lips and tongue brought her closer to her climax. Imagining thrusting inside of her, slowly at first so she could become accustomed to his weight and size, then faster and deeper, feeling Lara's fingernails rake his back as passion overtook them both. The image that drove him to his orgasm had been the sensation of feeling her hot, wet mouth on his rigid manhood, swirling her tongue over the tip then applying the right amount of suction until he erupted deep inside her mouth.

Jones opened his eyes to his dark, lonely office and sighed. I should have known better than to go to Smith for advice. But after I saw Lara this morning, I didn't know what to do and my stupid brain told me that my superior would be the logical candidate to broach my problem with. Everyone was right—I am an idiot. All muscle and no brains, that's me all right.

Inhaling deeply, Jones imagined he could still smell the fragrance that wafted from her as she passed him in the hallway. When Lara looked at me, for once not wearing glasses, I saw her eyes for the first time and I felt aroused. I could feel myself starting to stir and awaken and I became afraid.

If I had that reaction from simply being with her in the same hallway, what would happen when we were alone? I could not afford to find out, for what if I had done nothing until tonight and found that I had to have her? Being the big brute that I am, she would not have any chance of defending herself against me. I have never forced myself on a female program, but from the moment I saw her today, I wanted her in the worst way. Even though the hallway was crowded, I wanted to rip her clothes off, to feel her skin next to mine, to satisfy myself by thrusting deep inside her up against the wall…

My mind was full of these kinds of thoughts, and I knew I _had_ to ask someone for direction or some way out of this dilemma. And who did I turn to? Smith and the results of his so-called advice were played over the intercom system for all to hear. I balled up my fists in anger and wanted more than anything to be able to bury it in Smith's face, to feel his nose break, to feel that scrawny pencil-neck's blood on my hand.

Brown was right—I _should_ have gone to him instead…but what's done is done; I have to deal with the consequences and as much as I would dearly love to pound the shit out of Smith, that is simply not an option. However, it does make me realize that if I don't stand up to those guys now, I will never be able to face them again. Since I am the largest of the agents, I will give any of those laughing baboons who ridiculed me this morning a taste of my fists if they so much as look at me cross-eyed.

I have a job to do, Jones thought, eyeing the stack of paperwork on his desk, his resolution and determination to get through this day flowing through him. If these reports aren't done on time, Smith will take great pleasure in making me stay after work until it is completed. Besides, I cannot stay here all day—I have a date with Lara tonight. If she'll still have me, that is.

But before I start anything, I have to make amends first. His fingers raced over the keyboard of his computer as he typed a query into the Company search engine. All programs were traceable anywhere in the building and the one program he was looking for, Lara, was still in the ladies' room and close by her was another, most likely her friend who was just here and shamed me into coming to my senses. Since Lara is still there, she is probably very upset over my betrayal or she would have returned to her desk by now, Jones thought morosely.

However, I will do my best to apologize to her and make things right between us. Accessing another directory, Jones scanned it in order to find out what Ms. Alvarez's email account was and quickly sent off the following message:

_May I request that you keep Lara there until I arrive? Lara and I need to talk. Privately, if you wouldn't mind._

_Agent Jones._

He waited nervously, desperately hoping that she would respond soon and end his agony, whether the answer was yes or no. Less than one minute later, his computer beeped to indicate that an email had just been sent to him. With a sigh of relief, he read her message:

_It's about time, Agent Jones. I was beginning to think you would never write. I will make sure that Lara will be here when you arrive._

_Celia._

Jones straightened his jacket, tie, and left his office. In less than two minutes, he had arrived. As he had expected, Celia was looking out for him and even she was surprised at his quick arrival.

"I'll stand guard outside and ward off any weak-bladdered females from coming in so that you both can talk undisturbed," Celia said with a grin. "I didn't tell her you were coming, though. Talking in a john isn't the most romantic locale for this kind of thing, but it's pretty much the only place in the whole damn building that doesn't have security cameras or listening equipment." She cringed inwardly as she realized her _faux pas_ and swallowed nervously, fully expecting Jones to say something on being listened to while in a bathroom, but he did not even notice her Freudian slip of the tongue.

Jones nodded absently and Celia gave him a reassuring wink as he went past her inside the lavatory. "Good luck," she whispered and patted his arm.


	5. The Date

Chapter Five: The Date

Disclaimer: We don't own the Matrix, it owns us.

A/N: This story could not have been written at all if it wasn't for my co-author, smithsbabe65, for this was her brainchild and it is only through her hand-holding and butt-kicking me through my steady bouts of writer's block that it is even being put into print….so to speak.

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Lara dabbed at her eyes. Damn it, she thought, my makeup is ruined and I should be at my cubicle. I am sure there is a huge amount of work on my desk and not only that, I know there is a gaggle of twittering gossips just waiting to see if they can glean any more information to torment me with. She reached over and fumbled blindly for the pack of tissues that Celia had left. She had foreseen Lara's need and handed her one.

"Thanks Celia," Lara mumbled quietly and blew her nose.

"You're welcome, Lara," Jones said.

Lara looked up and saw him standing in front of her from where she sat on top of the bathroom countertop. "What do you want?" she said sulkily. "Did you come here to see me cry? Well, you're too late, I'm done." Actually, I'm far from done crying because of what you did, but I'm not going to tell you that, she thought defiantly.

"I deserve that."

"What are you doing here? This is the ladies' room!"

"I know. I wanted to see you and explain why I cancelled our date. I am very sorry if I hurt you. I don't know if you've heard, but earlier today…"

"I heard," Lara said, getting up the courage to look at Jones. He looks sad, she thought, as she studied his face closely. He must be humiliated after he found out that everyone who was in the building heard him over the intercom.

"I know what you did," Lara said, "and I am flattered, really I am."

"You are?" Jones said incredulously, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Of course I am. What woman wouldn't be? I mean, you did, um, _that_ because you were, er, affected by the change in my appearance. You didn't want to run the risk of possibly taking advantage of me on our date, knowing that you are so much bigger and stronger than I am."

I've had a raging hard-on ever since I saw you this morning, Jones thought, but did not say it aloud for fear of her reaction.

"I have to ask you, Lara, why _did _you change your appearance so drastically? Not that you weren't attractive before, I mean…" Jones hastened to add.

"I just wanted to look as nice as I felt after you asked me out," Lara said, angry with herself for blushing yet again. "You really thought I was pretty? Before Celia worked me over, I mean?" she asked.

"Yes, definitely," Jones said softly, his hand going out to touch her cheek as one last tear slowly slid down her face. "I've always thought you were pretty. Don't cry, Lara, it hurts me enough to know that I've made you hide yourself in here for the last twenty minutes, let alone that you've been crying all this time."

He felt her quiver when his fingers touched her skin. "I won't hurt you," he said, stepping closer to her. All right, here goes, Jones thought to himself as he put his hand under Lara's chin and was encouraged when she did not slap his hand away or scream in fear as he did so.

I really should get back to work, Lara thought, but the hope of Jones kissing her made all thoughts of work exit her head as she tilted her head upwards in preparation for his kiss and uttered a small whimper of anticipation….

"How's it going….oh, I'm sorry!" came a startled enquiry at the door. For the second time in as many days, someone caused Lara and Jones to break apart when the last thing either of them wanted to be separated. Fortunately, it was Celia this time, not Smith, so there was no censorious displeasure in her face. Realizing that they could hardly remain in the lavatory any longer, Jones and Lara left. Ignoring the curious stares of the people around them, each headed off to their respective work areas.

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Standing at the copy machine, Jones was aware of the snickers behind him. Gritting his teeth, he bristled in angry silence, ignoring the snide remarks and slurs that were being directed at him.

"Hey, Jones, will that girlfriend of yours turn back into a dog at midnight?" came a remark from right behind him. A chorus of raucous laughter met the speaker of that loathsome remark and out of the corner of his eye, Jones saw Jeffery Montgomery bow theatrically to his audience as if he were onstage.

Jones stopped what he was doing and turned around slightly. The movement caught the eye of Montgomery and knowing that he had at last gotten through to the large agent, he decided to press his luck.

"Because since you jerked off once already," the man unwisely continued as he now saw he had Jones' undivided attention, "you might not be _up _to the task of fucking her the way she deserves. But someone's gotta do it. Does anyone know if she charges by the hour or by the night?" A louder cacophony of laughter rang through the room. Just about all the men in the room had seen her today and compared with the severe-but-professional attire Lara had always worn, her choice of apparel this morning did seem to suggest that her morals had been considerably loosened overnight.

"She's in probably in so much pain right now from having her entire pussy waxed, I guess fucking her is out of the question anyway. That's too bad. If I give her a hundred bucks, think she'll give me a blow-job under my desk, Jones? Just because her pussy is out of commission, that doesn't mean her mouth is, right?"

It was too much for Jones to bear. They can say what the hell they want about me, he thought, but Lara is off-limits and I'm going to prove it to them once and for all!

Whirling around, the large agent met the bold gaze of the man who had led the others in ridiculing him that morning. Jones reached down and grabbed the man by his crotch, effortlessly lifting him up with one hand and holding him at eye level. Jones was well over six feet tall while Montgomery, in comparison, was skinny and short, the top of his head barely reaching the agent's chest.

"I'm sorry, what was that you said?" Jones asked mildly, squeezing the obnoxious man's testicles until he gulped—unable and unwilling to say anything for fear of Jones tightening his grip on his balls.

"I didn't say anything, Agent Jones. It was a mistake."

"You are damn right it was, Montgomery," Jones replied, a tight and humourless smile on his face as he squeezed his adversary's groin harder. "And that goes for the rest of you," he said, his eyes flicking around the room until he had made eye contact with everyone who had been watching the two men.

"If anyone says anything, and I mean _anything_ about Ms. Rodgers or any other woman in this building again, I'll rip the balls off of any man I catch doing it. Is that clear?"

No one dared to answer. With a dismissive scoff, Jones released the repugnant man who had ridiculed Lara so blatantly and he fell to the floor, immediately curling into a fetal position and holding his groin, moaning in agony.

"Get up," Jones ordered, kicking Montgomery hard. Understandably, the man on the floor was in no position to either obey or deny Jones' demand.

"Why?" the prone man croaked.

"Because you are going to repeat each and every word of what you said to Ms. Rodgers personally and beg for her forgiveness, that's why," Jones sneered, hauling the grovelling man by the collar and dragging him out of the office and down the hallway, out of sight of the other co-workers.

Like all cowardly men who like to make derogatory or sexual remarks about a woman behind her back but would never dare do it to her face, Montgomery recoiled at the idea.

"No, man, I don't wanna…I can't."

"Why not?" Jones asked, shoving Montgomery's back against the wall so that he was facing Jones. "Oh, I see. It makes you feel like a man when you do it behind her back, but you can't to her face, is that it? Well, I will tell you what—I won't make you do it this time, but you will complete all the paperwork I am going to give you. You will do it perfectly without any mistake whatsoever: every '_t_' will be crossed and every '_i_' will be dotted. If I find any kind of error, you won't be able to fuck any woman for a month. Do you understand me or is that in any way unclear?"

Montgomery nodded his acceptance of Jones' terms and slouched against the wall until he felt capable to stand on his own power. Not surprisingly, he made himself scarce for the rest of the day and when Jones picked up his report from Montgomery's desk, he smiled, satisfied with the results. Every '_i_' had been dotted and every '_t_' had been crossed to perfection. Montgomery had taken Jones' threat seriously, it seemed.

From his unseen vantage point, Agent Brown had heard and seen everything. Willing and able to assist Jones in any way his friend required, he discovered that Jones had had the situation in control.

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Just before Jones was to pick her up at seven, Lara gave herself an once-over glance when the doorbell rang, smoothing her dress and answered the door. OK, kiddo, it's show time, she thought, opening the door.

"Come on in, make yourself comfortable," Lara said, and she gave a gasp of surprise when she saw the bouquet of long-stemmed red roses that Jones held out to her. No man had ever given her flowers before and she knew that what he had just given her must have cost a lot of money.

"Thank you, Age—Jones, they are lovely!" she said enthusiastically. For God's sake, girl, she chided herself, you almost called your date by his title, not his name! "Let me put these in some water. Sit down," she called from the kitchen and watched surreptitiously as her date chose a chair at random and waited for her to return with their drinks.

They sat together in silence, each of them at a loss of things to say.

"You look very nice," Jones finally ventured, straining to break the silence between them. In a way, Smith was incorrect: self-gratification does _not_ take the edge off a man's desire for a woman, especially one as attractive as Lara is at this moment. When I am this close to her like I am now, I find her irresistible. I want to take her in my arms and….

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and tugged at the collar of his shirt to loosen it a little. Damn, he thought. I almost forgot to remove my earpiece! It was bad enough when everyone at the office was aware of how I had gratified myself, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let everyone connected to the Mainframe--not to mention Brown and Smith--know every detail of my date. With a flick of his finger, he tucked the earpiece inside his shirt collar.

"Um, where would you like to go for dinner?" he asked, trying to take his mind away from the erotic images that had been on his mind since he entered Lara's apartment.

"Not the Frenchman's place, that's for sure," Lara stated, shaking her head vigorously from side to side.

"Why don't you want to go there?" Jones asked curiously.

"Because he likes to put programs into the food just to see the effect it has on whoever eats it. He's a sick bastard who gets off on drugging people for his own amusement. I even heard that he sends some of the more attractive female patrons a dessert as compliments of the house but hidden inside is a program that makes them have an orgasm! Not only that, after they start eating the cake, he watches them closely to see how they handle the effects. So, no, I would rather not go to his place if you don't mind. How about that new Italian place that just opened up downtown? The one that everyone has been raving about? It doesn't look like much from the outside, but from what I've been told, the food is to die for." As long as we are together, it wouldn't matter to me in the slightest where we end up going, Lara thought. I'd be perfectly happy going to a monster-truck rally followed by eating at a hot-dog stand!

Jones nodded his agreement with her choice of dining establishment and after they had finished their drinks, headed downstairs. I wonder what Lara would do if she ever ate a piece of cake laced with that well-known and highly stimulating program of the Merovingian's that would make her climax at the dinner table of a five-star restaurant, Jones thought. Would Lara just sit there, prim and proper, pretending nothing untoward was happening, or would she allow herself to enjoy the sensations of having an orgasm in a public place.

Jones had the wicked feeling that Lara would allow herself to thoroughly enjoy such an experience. Her face would be flushed with passion, her eyes half closed and slightly glazed as she felt the sexually arousing effects of the cake rushing through her system. The skin of Lara's breasts would be pink with suffused blood just under the surface and her large nipples would be at their hardest, straining against the barrier of her brassiere to broadcast her heightened state of arousal to every male in the room who cared to look at her resplendent bosom.

She might even squeeze her knees together to keep her feelings of lust at bay; or, if I were with her and I knew what was happening, she might even part them to grant my foot access to stimulate her between her legs. When her orgasm was upon her, Lara would bite her lower lip to keep herself from crying out as the tingling in her loins reached their peak and she came, clutching the tablecloth and moaning deep in her throat so as not to disturb the other patrons…

Lara nudged his arm playfully, for the expression on his face suggested that his thoughts were very far away and said so.

You have no idea how right you are, Jones thought, as some part of his mind apologized to Lara for his inattention.

Lara smiled when he opened the car door for her and again when they arrived at the restaurant. On arrival, Jones had his doubts about how good the food could be from an eating-place that had such a plain exterior. Once inside, his doubts were not alleviated much for the inside of the place was just as nondescript. However, if Lara wants to try this place out, then I am all for it.

They found a secluded table for two at the back of the dining room. The ambience was pleasant and Jones forgot his doubts as the smells from the kitchen promised tantalizing hints of that culinary wonders that were to follow shortly.

Like all couples on a first date, they were initially ill at ease at being alone together. While their food was being prepared, both of them drank generously from the bottle of good wine their waiterhad recommended. The opportunity of finally being able to talk face-to-face plus the effects of the wine removed their difficulties at finding topics of conversation to engage in.

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"I had a really nice time tonight," Lara said shyly as they stood outside her apartment door. Now was the awkward moment in every couple's first date: what do you do when the date is over and it is time to go? From a man's point of view, he wonders if he should merely shake her hand and/or kiss her primly on the cheek. For a woman, the dilemma is whether to invite him in for the proverbial cup of coffee that neither wants or to simply say goodnight and leave it at that.

Lara glanced at her watch: 11:45. Damn, it's still too early. I do not want this, our first date, to end so soon, she thought. But if I invite him in, won't he get the wrong impression of me? Will he think that I have more in mind than sharing a beverage with him? That I want him to share my bed tonight? Not that I wouldn't mind, but definitely _not_ on our first date. But, damn it, I don't want him to leave just yet!

Lara sought to find a solution before Jones would think her silence was a signal for him to go; after all, it _had_ been a few minutes since they arrived at her apartment.

"Um, Jones, I just remembered that I have to pick a few things at the store, will you walk with me? It's getting late and I'd rather not go alone."

Lara repressed a smile when she saw Jones' face soften as he nodded. So he doesn't want to part from me either, she thought, happy in the knowledge and exultant in feminine pride that the mild pain for all of the waxing and the expense of her dress and shoes she had purchased specifically for their date had not been for nothing.

I know she is not telling me the truth, Jones thought, as he walked beside her tempering his long gait to match the much smaller stride of his delectable companion, for programs such as ourselves do not have to eat, but I do not care. I liked being with her this evening and if she wishes to prolong it, I will go along with any ruse in order to remain in her company for as long as possible.

As they walked to the store, they strolled slowly together in silence and Lara took the liberty of holding his hand and was relieved when his warm fingers closed around hers, squeezing them gently. The coolness of the night evaporated and Lara trembled for a moment.

Jones paused to look at her and realized that Lara did not have her coat on. Her arms were bare as her dress had had no sleeves and when he analyzed her code, he saw goose bumps racing up and down her arms as well as definite jump in her heart rate.

"Here, take my jacket," he said, as he took his coat off and put it over her shoulders. "Put your arm around me and keep yourself warm," he said and Lara happily obeyed. The night wasn't that chilly and she really wasn't cold at all, but she wasn't about to tell him so. She delighted in this closer intimacy as his jacket retained the warmth of his body and slight smell of aftershave.

Lara put her arms through the sleeves of the coat and slipped her hand around Jones' waist. The feeling of his arm around her shoulders was indescribable. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe and unconsciously she leaned closer to him, rejoicing in the feel of his hard, well-muscled body against hers.

After Lara had picked up what she needed from the store, the pinching of the new high-heeled shoes she had bought was causing her feet a great deal of discomfort, every step hurting her more and more. She tried flexing her toes inside her shoes as much as possible, but the ones she had picked were simply not meant nor made for taking lengthy, romantic nighttime strolls and her efforts were futile to unobtrusively relieve her discomfort.

"Damn," Lara cursed quietly. "Hold on for a minute, I have to take these shoes off or I won't be able to walk tomorrow." Holding Jones' arm for balance, she removed the shoes from her feet. However, the damage had been done: no sooner had her foot touched the pavement, she felt it throb. Lara tried putting her shoe back on, but her foot had swelled up as soon as she had removed it. She groaned in exasperation. I can't walk with them on and I can't walk without them either, she thought. How am I going to get home? No matter what I do, it's going to be one hell of a painful walk back, that's for sure.

She laughed wryly. "I'm going to have to use your arm as support, Jones, do you mind?"

"I have a better idea, if you will permit me?" he said, looking at her. She was about to ask what that solution was when all of a sudden, he picked her up in his arms with no effort. Lara giggled and placed her arms around his neck.

"You are a genius, Jones, do you know that? I never would have thought of this," she said with a laugh.

Jones was glad that the night was very dark as it hid the rush of blood that effused his face. Women have called me many things in my time, but not one of them, especially not one as pretty as Lara, has ever referred to me as being even remotely intelligent.

"It's a long way back though," Lara said concerned, "can you really carry me all that way?" She had no doubt he was capable of it for she was able to feel his strength just by the remarkably easy way he handled her. His touch was exceedingly gentle, although the muscles in his arms, chest and shoulders felt like iron against her body. He is one hell of a man, Lara thought; solid like a rock _and _gentle as can be. What would it feel like to sleep next to him, she wondered, to feel those incredibly strong arms holding me, protecting me all through the night and she blushed at the thought.

In less time than she wished, they had arrived back at her apartment door and with much gentleness as if she were made of glass and might break in his hands if he handled her roughly, Jones lowered her so that she could stand up. At this second leave-taking at her door, Lara was ready, her mind made up.

"Would you like to come inside?"

lllll

After Jones left nearly three hours later, Lara leaned against the door and closed her eyes in happiness. It had been a long time since she had been on a date and her time with Jones had surpassed even her highest expectations. And from what she could tell, he had had a good time too. Of course since Jones hardly ever smiled, it was hard to be sure, but there had been a softening of his usual dour and impassive expression and his eyes became warmer and inviting as they conversed that told her he liked being in her company. Not only that, she told herself, he placed his jacket around me when he could have just handed it to me.

I should have made the date for tonight instead of yesterday because now I have nothing to look forward to until Monday when I see him again, she thought sadly. If I can get up the courage and ask him, I wonder if he would like to see me again. Maybe even tomorrow, she thought hopefully.

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she changed her clothes and put on a movie, knowing that sleep would be a long way off for her tonight. She had too much on her mind to even think of sleeping.

lllll

For his part, Jones was feeling the same as Lara when he went home. He sat on his sofa and the smell of Lara's perfume brought her constantly to his mind. It was slightly spicy but not overpowering and even though his olfactory senses were in perfect working order, he brought his jacket to his nose to inhale her intoxicating scent deeper.

He analyzed every detail of their time together and could find nothing in his examination that indicated that Lara had not had a good time. Relieved, he could only conclude that the date had been satisfactory for her as well. It certainly appeared that way for she laughed and talked and participated in every facet of their date with honest, wholehearted enjoyment.

Both of us were a little shy at first, but that did not last long owing to the excellent wine we drank. Perhaps she already knew that I am far from being a great conversationalist and she compensated for it by using her higher ability of social skills to make me feel at ease very quickly.

I wonder what she is doing now, he thought idly. It's too bad that we have to wait until Monday to see each other again. Now that I have a far greater understanding of what constitutes a proper date between a man and a woman, I would like very much to see her again. To feel her close to me, to feel my fingers slide up her arms as I bent my head to kiss her, my arms wrapped around her slim waist, her breasts pressed tightly against me as our lips met for the first time….

Jones sighed contentedly. His groin stirred, filling his system with desire--wanting, needing to be close to Lara again, to hear her voice, to feel her arm or hand brushing his. I will call her tomorrow to see how her feet are, he decided. It's a poor excuse at best, but it's all I've got. And who knows what may happen?

For the first time in a very long time, he allowed himself to fall asleep. With his jacket held close to his nose so he could inhale Lara's perfume, Jones felt certain that, for once, his nocturnal downtime thoughts would be pleasant for they would be solely about Lara and not the dark images that usually permeated and disturbed his rest.


	6. The Next Day

Chapter Six: The Next Day

Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix, etc, etc.

Lara stretched lazily in bed the next morning. Yawning widely, she got out of bed and went out to the living room. Her feet felt as good as new. Lara smiled happily and slowly ran her fingertips over her lips remembering how it felt when Jones kissed her goodbye before he left last night. When he took her in his arms and held her tight against his body as they kissed, was a feeling she knew she would not forget anytime soon.

_It was past two a.m. when Jones took his leave of Lara. She accompanied him to her door and again both of them did not want their time together to end just yet._

_Steeling himself for rejection, Jones took a step towards Lara and bent his head to kiss her. His arm snaked around her back and held her, delighting in the feel of her delicate feminine form against his hard masculine one._

"_If you don't want me to kiss you," he said, his voice a bare whisper, "then you'd better stop me now."_

"_I have no intention of doing that, Jones," Lara said softly, looking deep into his eyes. Their lips met in a kiss that made the small hairs on the back of Jones' neck prickle. For her part, the contact of their lips made Lara's nipples become firm and she was sure that Jones could feel their hardness through the thin silk of her dress. However, as the kiss between them deepened and progressed quickly into full-blown passion, Lara was not aware of her surroundings; the only thing her mind could focus on was continuing the exquisite sensations of being kissed by Jones. Her lips parted further and her tongue brushed against his, exciting him even more._

_Passion was increasing exponentially inside Lara with each passing moment and she wildly ran her fingers through his hair. Jones, greatly desiring to touch her in the same way, removed the barrette that held her hair in place and her auburn tresses tumbled to her shoulders and over his hands. Jones buried his hands to the wrists in the fragrant locks, savouring the silky feel of her hair running over his fingers. _

_Jones was curious as to what she was feeling as he kissed her and since he was very proficient in analyzing the streams of coding for another program, Jones accurately deduced that she liked his attentions very much. Very much indeed. His eyebrows rose several millimetres when he realized that she was not wearing any panties, but gallantly did not bring the subject up when they had recovered enough breath to converse again. I wonder if her genital hair-removal was so painful that it hurt her to wear underwear, Jones thought, intrigued and aroused._

_Not trusting his body to accept his mental wish to leave while he still could and not take advantage of Lara's obvious desire, Jones thought it wise to bid her goodnight and make a hasty retreat to the sanctuary of his car. Despite the fact that the night air was brisk, Jones turned on the air conditioning to its coldest setting without hesitation. However, even with the A/C unit on full power, it was not nearly enough to quell the hot lust and desire that coursed through every pathway of his system. _

_Leaning back in the driver's seat, Jones ripped open his shirt and panted heavily as the frigid air from the A/C blasted over his bare, sweat-slicked chest and torso until his system temperature returned to its normal parameters and his erection subsided somewhat before starting the car and driving off. _

lllll

Lara bustled out of the shower in time to pick up the receiver before the caller had hung up.

"I wanted to see if your feet still hurt," Jones' deep voice said over the phone, causing a shiver to race from the top of Lara's head to her feet.

"They're all right. They don't hurt anymore, thanks for asking. I would like to see you today, if you don't have any plans," Lara said boldly and crossed her fingers for luck.

"I'd like that too," he replied eagerly, a thrill of excitement coursing through him at the idea that she wished to continue their time together even though their date was long over. "What should we do, then?"

"I don't really know," she said honestly. "Wait. The park goes by your place, I think. How about we go for a walk and take it from there?"

"That sounds nice," Jones said. "Instead of me picking you up, I'll wait here until you arrive?"

"What time should I show up?" Lara asked.

"Anytime after ten," Jones suggested, choosing a time at random. That will give me a chance to work out for a bit before she gets here and burn off some energy, he thought.

"See you then," was Lara's cheerful reply before she hung up.

As soon as he heard the dial tone, Jones immediately stripped to his boxers and began his usual weight-training workout. It was not long before he was sweating with exertion, forcing his mind and body to focus on what he was doing. He succeeded so well that he forgot that Lara was on her way over until the doorbell rang.

He opened the door without a second thought.

lllll

Seeing Jones there wearing only a pair of boxers and sweat lazily meandering its way down his body, Lara could only stare at his almost nude form from head to foot, marvelling at the near-perfect specimen of manhood that stood directly before her. With a blush, she realized that because of the copious amount of perspiration he had secreted during his workout, his white boxer shorts were rendered almost transparent.

Lara gulped.

She had had some inkling of Jones' body size and strength from the night before but to see so much of him was frightening and arousing at the same time. My God, has he got a body, was Lara's first thought, before innate modesty made her turn her eyes away.

"I caught you at a bad time, I'm sorry. I'll come back…" Lara turned to go, but Jones caught her elbow.

"Don't go, Lara. I'm sorry about you seeing me like this," he said. "Let me take a shower and we can leave. Please come in," he said, stepping aside so that she could enter. "Sit down, and I'll be out in less than ten minutes."

Lara found she could only gape and stare at the rippling muscles of Jones' back and shoulders as he turned away from her and headed for the bathroom. Lara felt her face turn red as erotic thoughts flashed through her mind. For goodness sake, girl, stop blushing,Lara sternly told herself. You are no virgin; you have seen naked men before!

_But not one of them had six-pack abs and a butt you could bounce a quarter off of, _a small voice inside her head informed her.

Shortly after, Lara heard water running in the shower, causing her to fantasize about what hot water and soapy residue being rinsed off his magnificent form would look like and she grateful that Jones would never know the strength of her arousal for him. The height, weight and proportion of his body was flawless. From what she could tell, there was very little fat on him and even the thick tangle of hair covering his chest was perfection itself.

How those women at work could prefer the slighter builds of either Smith or Brown is a mystery to me, she thought. Their suits give them added bulk but take their clothes off and they would be just plain skinny. Jones on the other hand, has a physique of Adonis or Hercules—strong, manly and virile. Enough to make any woman go weak at the knees just thinking about him.

A girl would feel protected while being held by Jones, but with Smith and Brown? No way. Brown is too young and Smith is too creepy. Lara shuddered with fear and revulsion at the thought of being anywhere near the leader of the agents. With or without his clothes, it didn't matter; she feared and despised him.

She made a mental note to call Celia that afternoon. Poor thing has a date with Smith, she grimaced. Celia spent a lot of time making me gorgeous and desirable for my date. The least I can do is do the reverse on her. I have to make Celia as unattractive as I can, Lara thought. But I think that any man who had eyes would get a hard-on for her even if she were wearing a potato sack.

lllll

Jones braced himself against the shower wall and let the water cascade over his back and shoulders. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, he cursed himself. How could I have forgotten she was coming over?

I can only imagine what she is thinking of me, coming to the door dressed in only my shorts. I suppose it doesn't matter now, the damage is done. She probably thinks I was showing off. Well, I can't stay in here any longer, he thought, turning off the water before wrapping a towel around his waist.

He entered his bedroom through the other door in the bathroom and in less time than he told Lara, he was ready. She turned as he re-entered the living room and smiled. Even away from the office, Jones was impeccably dressed in his customary black suit and tie.

"Jones, we are only going for a walk, there's no need to dress like you would for work. Look at me—jeans and a t-shirt. Saturdays are dress-down days, a time to relax."

"What would you suggest I wear?" Jones asked uncertainly. "Look in my closet—all I have is black suits; all Company issue."

"Well, I have an idea that might work even with a black suit. May I?" she asked, coming over to him. Jones nodded his acceptance that she could do whatever she liked to change his appearance. Hardly believing her own boldness, Lara reached up and removed the tie clip followed by his tie as Jones watched curiously, without saying a word or hindering her in any way until she had completed what she set out to do.

"There. That's much better," Lara remarked. You look much more relaxed, she thought, trying to keep herself from staring at the hair on his chest that was revealed by the two buttons that she had undone. "What do you think?" she asked, looking up at him as he glanced down over his more casual appearance.

"I feel a bit under-dressed, but I like it," Jones said honestly, as he surveyed himself. Not bad at all. "Shall we go, then?" he asked, and a quiver raced through him as he felt her place her small hand in his.

lllll

They strolled through the walking trails of the park, each enjoying the scenery, the quietness of the solitude from the more obscure areas of the park, and above all, taking a great deal of pleasure in the company of the other.

Lara drew closer to Jones as she became aware of a group of rowdy, teenaged boys ahead of them who were showing off their skateboarding skills to impress several seemingly uninterested girls that were nearby.

"Those boys up there…." she whispered, squeezing his hand tighter. Jones returned the gesture.

"I see them. Don't be afraid, Lara, I would never let anything happen to you. Even if they do start something, I am armed. Besides, they're only human." As soon as they had passed the gang of adolescents, he heard Lara sigh in relief. It wasn't until then that Jones realized that his companion had not had as much contact with the human inhabitants of the Matrix as he.

"You must see them from time to time," Lara said. "How can you stand it? Being near them, I mean?"

Jones shrugged. "I don't mind them as much as Smith or Brown. It's a necessary but distasteful part of my job, to interact with them when I have to."

Not wising to discuss his work--and reveal how many times he had had to kill them--he sought a slight change of subject, one that would be more acceptable to Lara to talk about; Jones did not want to tell her how many lives, either human or program, he had had to take during his years as an agent. The last thing I want is end our relationship before it even begins. No woman wants to think of her potential boyfriend as someone who kills others for a living—especially since it is true in my case.

"How do you like _your_ job?" he inquired.

Lara shrugged. "To be honest, it is boring and repetitive, but there is nothing I can do anything to change it, so I learned to just live with it. Being a secretary is my purpose after all, however much I would like it to be otherwise."

"If you had a choice and you were able to change your job, what would you prefer to do instead?"

As he expected, Lara was forthright and honest; two qualities, Jones had discovered, that he liked best about her. Once asked for her opinion, she would always speak her mind.

"I would like to get into the field at some point. Not do what you do of course, but a change, _any_ change would be nice."

"Well, who knows what may come to pass in the future."

It had to be supremely boring for her, sitting in a small cubicle day after day, doing the same thing for hours on end: typing reports and field notes while she doesn't even have a window to ease the tediousness of her job. No wonder she would jump at the chance to do something as different as fieldwork, Jones thought. At least I get to go outside but she does not.

Jones was well aware that Lara's friend, Celia, had an upcoming date with Smith later that evening; Brown was counting on him to get all the information he could, so Jones asked Lara to provide more details.

"Did Ms. Alvarez say anything to you about where she and Smith will be having dinner tonight?"

"Well, since we had such a good time at that Italian place last night, I'm going to suggest they go there."

"What time will they get there, do you think?"

"I think Celia told me around seven or so."

Lara was puzzled at Jones' curiosity about this matter that surely did not affect or concern him in the least but she answered all of his questions nevertheless.

"But if all goes according to plan, I think I can prevent Celia from ending up in one of Smith's "_Feed_ _'em, Fuck 'em and Forget 'em" _files," Lara said confidently.

"Oh? What were you and Celia going to do?"

"I'm going over to her place and help her get ready for her date. Smith won't believe his eyes when he sees her. You see, I am going to do the reverse that she did on me: instead of making her beautiful, I'm going to make her as unattractive to Smith as possible. No tight or revealing clothes. No makeup. No personal hygiene. I wonder how long it will take Smith from picking her up to kicking her out."

They stopped walking as if of the same mind and stared into each other's eyes. Without realizing it, Jones was staring at Lara completely mesmerized, his future reflected in her eyes; a flash of premonition dazzled and filled him at that moment with such intensity, he doubted that even the Oracle herself could have matched it for accuracy: he would never have to sleep alone again. Having a companion at his side. She would be a friend, a lover--hopefully in the not too distant future--and finally, a wife. _My _wife. The mother of my children.

The deep swirling of hope and love stirred the volcanic depths of his virtual soul, shaking him to the very core of his programming. He would do whatever it took, however long it took to fulfill his vision of the future. Nothing would stop him. No one, not Smith, not even the great Architect himself, would ever put up a roadblock to deter or detract him from his goal.

"Lara…." The shrill chirping of his cell phone broke his train of thought and he scowled as he read the text message he had just been sent. Damn. However, this was neither the time nor the place to tell Lara how he felt or to do something about it. He needed time and space; to think clearly, to examine from every possible angle and vantage point on the best method on how to proceed to win her heart.

"I have to go to the office," he said slowly. Smith is going to have my ass, I know it, Jones thought. I haven't had my earpiece in since last night and because he had to resort to using a cell phone instead of contacting me directly, there will be hell to pay.

"On a Saturday?" Lara asked, surprised and disappointed.

"It would seem some rebels have been spotted. I'm sorry, Lara, but I have to leave."

"I'm sorry, too," said Lara sadly.

"I had a nice time today," Jones said, "I only wish….."

"I know. You had better get going. Smith is not the type to wait," she said, trying to force a brave smile so he wouldn't see how disappointed she was at his leaving. He can't help it, she thought, he has to jump whenever Smith snaps his fingers. He has to obey instantly and without question.

"I'll call you later," he called out as he turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Lara barely had time to turn around before she noticed that Jones was in front of her.

"That was…." Lara wasn't even able to say the word "fast" before being enveloped in his strong arms.

"I didn't get a chance to say a proper good-bye; Smith can wait for a minute or two," Jones said softly, as Lara, realizing that he had returned expressly for the purpose of kissing her, raised her mouth to his and hungrily returned the kiss he gave her. Lara was dimly aware that his cell phone rang again and again in angry impatience as the tip of Jones' tongue parted her lips. She opened her mouth wider, to allow him to have greater access to her oral cavity, to kiss and explore its depths all he wanted.

Jones groaned in rapidly rising passion when he felt her nipples harden against his chest and he longed to caress and fondle her breasts and feel their delicious fullness in his hands, hearing Lara moan as he did so. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep a tight rein on their mutual passion and Jones had to struggle to restrain himself from acting on his desire.

He could feel their warm softness brushing against his fingers as he gripped her forearms. Suddenly, Lara raised her arms so that they encircled his neck, bringing their bodies into closer contact, arousing and stimulating their senses even further. Not only that, the unexpected movement on Lara's part enabled Jones to brush his hands against her breasts for a moment before he slid them down the sides of her body to grasp her derrière and grind his hips into hers. He felt Lara freeze into stillness and the realization of what he had just done made him push his body away from hers before he could be tempted to take any more liberties.

"I'm sorry--I didn't mean to…" he said, expecting Lara to slap him for his actions but she did not. Her face was flushed with as much passion as his. Lara was not one of those women who would wilfully and knowingly encourage a man to touch her body and then punish him for acting on his arousal a moment later.

Instead, she reached up and touched his face in a gesture of such simplicity and complexity that Jones knew he was not mistaken in his choice of Lara for his future fiancée. The annoying, persistent ringing of Jones' cell phone interrupted their mutual contemplation.

"You'd better answer that," Lara said wryly. "Smith sounds pissed. You'd better go," she whispered. "I know your duty as an agent has to come before everything else. I can wait. Besides, we will be seeing each other again on Monday."

In a gesture both sad and touching, he kissed her hand and held it over his heart. Not for long, Lara, he thought wistfully. Soon, I hope, my duties as an agent will be of lesser consideration and you won't have to wait for your wishes and desires to take precedence for my time and attention.

lllll

Without preamble, Lara entered her best friend's apartment. "I'm here as I promised, Celia."

Celia came out from the kitchen and it looked as if she had been crying.

"I just can't sleep with Smith," Celia said, her voice almost cracking, "I'd rather quit than do that! Not to mention having to do Monty afterward…."

"Don't worry," Lara said, her arm comfortingly around her friend's shoulder. "He won't want to sleep with you after I'm done!" she said, trying to sound hopeful so that Celia would feel better.

"He said he'd pick you up around seven, right? Well, we have hours to get you ready. However, first things first. Do you have any booze in this place? You and I will need it, trust me."

lllll

"So what's up?" Celia asked, trying not to slur her words too much. She and Lara had drunk up all the tequila that remained in the bottle and both were feeling tipsy.

"What do you mean?" Lara asked.

"I mean what happened on your date with Jones? When you came here, you were practically glowing. What's the scoop? What happened? Did you guys kiss?"

"You bet we did!" Lara said, giggling and blushing. "Last night AND today when we had to say good-bye in the park."

"And?" Celia demanded, leaning forward anxious to hear the particulars of her friend's date with Jones. "C'mon, don't make me beg! Details, woman! Tell me the details!"

Lara's eyes and face lit up when she recounted what had happened. I knew it, Celia thought triumphantly. If she had told me he only wanted to shake her hand at the end of their date, then I would've bet my bottom dollar he was gay or something. But it seems that Jonesy _does_ have more than just friendship on his mind with my little friend. Good! I am so happy for her! If he couldn't resist grabbing her ass and copping a feel the way he did, I sincerely doubt that he can last a month, two at most, without wanting to sleep with Lara. Now if only I could have the same luck with Brown, everything in my life would be hunky-dory, Celia thought, sighing sadly.

She bent her head and tried to keep the extreme unhappiness she was feeling transmit itself and spoil Lara's upbeat mood. She hastily excused herself and almost ran into the safe sanctuary of her bedroom before throwing herself on her bed and giving in to her anguish.

A comforting arm was thrown across her shoulders as Lara held her best friend.

"Celia, please don't cry. It hurts me to see you so sad."

"If I have to sleep with Smith, I'm going to kill myself, I swear I will. I am NOT going to go through all that bullshit again," Celia said, and a chill of foreboding raced down Lara's spine as she realised her friend knew exactly what she was saying and meant every word. Lara remembered all too well the incident with Derek Steele and the sexual and physical abuse Celia was forced to endure before a sniper's bullet ended his life all those years ago.

"Have you forgotten," Lara demanded, fear and anger competing for prominence in her system and she jerked her friend's tear-stained face up roughly so she could look in her eyes, "that I'm here to help you get through tonight? You helped me and now I'm going to do the same."

"No, I can handle myself. You should go home now in case Jones calls again."

"Fuck him!" Lara said angrily. "Not that I wouldn't mind, mind you, but not tonight. And you think you can handle yourself against Smith? No way."

She got off the bed and opened the doors to Celia's closet. "You are going to wear the unsexiest, most God awful clothes you've got. Trust me on this, I am—or rather _was_--the reigning Queen of Dowdiness. Sit down and take notes: I am going to give you a makeover Smith will never forget! When I'm done with you, he probably won't even want to get through reading the entrée menu before he ditches you in the restaurant. It would be a good idea to bring a lot of money; that bastard probably won't chip in for cab fare before he tosses you out of his sight!"

Celia could not help but smile at Lara's determination. She sounds so convincing, I just might be tempted to believe her, she thought.

Despite her brave words, Lara was apprehensive but her resolve to do as she promised stiffened her spine. I _have_ to do this and do it well or Celia will be tempted to hurt herself and whatever the cost, I _cannot_ allow that to happen. She is my best friend and I won't lose her because of Smith and his overactive sexual libido.

lllll

"There!" Lara said, placing Celia before the mirror so she could see her own reflection. It had taken quite a bit of digging, but Lara found what she thought was the perfect outfit for her friend to wear. Every woman has at least one outfit in her closet that could be categorized as "_what the hell was I thinking when I bought this?" _and being the rabid clothes buyer that she was, Celia had more than a few items of clothing that easily fit into that category, thereby giving Lara a good selection to choose from.


	7. Knight In A Shining BMW

Chapter 7—Knight in a Shining BMW

Disclaimer: The two authors of this story do not own the Matrix, etc etc.

Author's Note: This story would not have been possible if it weren't for the invaluable assistance of my co-author, smithsbabe65. This is, in fact, her brainchild and could not have been written without her assistance.

lllll

After Brown had left Jones that Friday afternoon, he returned to his own office. The space he had been allotted was larger than his friend's, but was still much smaller and plainer than that of Smith, whose office had a spectacular window view and the best in furniture.

Brown always had the impression that Jones had been given the smallest working space of the three agents out of sheer spite on Smith's part and Brown felt sorry that his friend had had to make do with the claustrophobic conditions that Smith forced him to work under. Still, I have to give him his due, Brown thought, Jones has never once complained; he endures everything with quiet dignity.

Brown sat dejectedly at his desk, pondering the news that had made its usual speedy arrival from the office grapevine: Smith had asked Ms. Alvarez out and she had accepted.

As if she even has a choice, he thought glumly. Every female who works here knows damn well that she faces deletion or exile if she refuses the request of Agent Smith for a date. And since all of his rendezvous end up in bed, it will be no different with Celia Alvarez. But at least with her fiery Latin disposition, she is the most likely of Smith's recent conquests to give as good as she gets and if Smith decides to get rough, Celia will fight for her honour to the best of her ability. She is not the kind of woman who will just lie back and let Smith take what he wants from her--she will bust his balls before she goes down, Brown thought, a wicked smile crossing his face.

Barring some miracle however, Ms. Alvarez will be firmly ensconced in Smith's bed before tomorrow night is over, I am sure of it. But that does not mean that I cannot keep an eye on her all the same. Besides, she may need to have someone rescue her from Smith's clutches after all, and I can be there in the right place at the right time should things get out of hand, Brown thought logically.

However, there was a dilemma: the location of the date had not been disclosed to him. Brown was acutely aware that it was very typical of Agent Smith not reveal where he took his unsuspecting female companions until the very last minute, since the head agent always felt that a level of mystery always heightened his pleasure. But Brown also knew Ms. Alvarez well enough to know that she would never go anywhere with the slippery Smith until she had been briefed on where he was taking her.

Brown's only hope to obtain the much-needed information lay with Celia's best friend, Ms. Lara Rodgers. Because of the close bond the women shared, Ms. Alvarez would have certainly confided in Ms. Rodgers about the details of her upcoming date with Smith. And since Lara's own association with Agent Jones is beginning to bear fruit, I will ask Jones to get the information from Ms. Rodgers where Smith is going to take out her friend, Brown thought, resolutely not allowing himself to give up just yet. A lot of things can happen in 24 hours.

lllll

The rebel affair that had taken a very reluctant Jones away from Lara the following Saturday afternoon was an easy matter to resolve--the two unplugged humans had been in the process of releasing a third, but due to their excellence in marksmanship, Brown and Jones had dispatched them in record time.

Smith had no reason to be present at a standard _pursue, kill, and cleanup_ assignment--being the vain program that he was, Smith only took part in high-profile arrests that lead to his picture being taken or being written about in a newspaper.

"Well, that went as expected," Brown said. "Quick and to the point." He slapped Jones on the shoulder. "I can always count on you to watch my back; you've never disappointed me yet." Being the observant sentient that he was, Brown could not help but notice Jones' pre-occupied demeanour.

"What's the matter, Jones? Did your date with Ms. Rodgers not go well?"

Jones was not the kind of man to smile very much but a small grin spread over his face, softening his chiselled features. "It went very well, Brown. Very well indeed."

"Well, that's good to hear, but it doesn't explain why you appeared to be so sad a moment ago."

"I wasn't sad, I was just disappointed that I had to leave Lara in the park to take care of these two," Jones gave the bodies of the two rebels a disdainful shove with his foot. But I suppose they did me a favour, getting me called away like that, Jones thought, for if I hadn't been, I probably would have been tearing her clothes off right there in the park, that's how strong my lust was and if I am not mistaken, so was hers.

Brown shuffled uncomfortably. "I hate to ask but when you were with her, did she, um, say anything about her friend's date with Smith?"

Jones looked at the eager face of his young colleague. Brown was trying very hard not to appear anxious and hopeful but was failing miserably.

"They are going to _Verdi's_, Smith made reservations for seven o'clock. However, Lara told me that she will perform a reverse makeover for Ms. Alvarez to make her as unappealing to Smith as possible."

Like that's even possible, Brown thought glumly. There is nothing Ms. Lara Rodgers can do that would possibly make Smith not want to have Celia. Once a woman catches Smith's eye, nothing stops him from getting what he wants. Nothing. However, Brown's gloomy mood changed when he noticed a smear of what looked like lipstick on Jones's shirt.

"You are lucky Smith wasn't here; he'd have your ass for not appearing in uniform," he scolded Jones.

"What do you mean?"

"No jacket, no tie and an open shirt—he'd definitely have something to say about that." A mischievous look twinkled in Brown's eye. "So you were just "talking" with Ms. Rodgers when you got the call to come here?"

"Yes."

"Right. And that is why you have lipstick on your shirt, Ms. Rodger's DNA all over your face and her perfume on your clothes? Don't lie to me, Jones; I've known you too long. So how was it?" He repressed a knowing grin as he watched Jones try to not to answer the question directly.

"A gentleman never tells," Jones said with a sidelong look. "After your first date with Celia, I'll ask _you_ that question and see how you answer it. Speaking of whom, I hope everything goes well for you tonight. What are you planning to do, anyway?"

"I don't really have a plan in mind; I'll drive by the restaurant and hope I can see her, to see how things are going between them. I hope to hell that Ms. Rodgers has performed a miracle and managed to turn Smith off from demanding sex from Celia, but that might be too much to ask, considering the extent of Smith's libido. Hell, if she can do anything that will turn him off, I'll send her a dozen roses on Monday."

And I will do the same for Celia for barging into my office and knocking some sense into me, Jones thought resolutely. If it hadn't been for her, I never would have gone out with Lara and discovered that we were meant for each other. I owe Ms. Alvarez a great debt, more than I ever can repay her. Despite the fact that she blatantly and brazenly broke the Company's rules regarding insubordination, I certainly won't discipline her for it; she deserves a pay raise for what she did. I can never thank her enough.

"Thanks for the support, Jones, but I'm going to need a miracle to pull this whole thing off." Brown checked his watch. "It's only 4:30, though. Why don't we go have a beer and shoot some pool before zero hour? Damn it!" Brown cursed, "I'm the one assigned to watch sector-G for rebel activity tonight! How can I do both at the same time? Jones, what the hell am I going to do? I just can't leave Celia with Smith and hope for the best, I've got to be there to make sure…" Brown said, his face stricken and worried.

Jones thought for a moment. "You are a senior agent; delegate the task to one of the juniors—how about Agent McCoy? He could handle something like this, I think. Only be sure to tell him not to mention it to anyone else: if Smith found out that you changed the assignment roster at the last minute, there will be hell to pay. No, forget that," Jones said decisively. "_I'll_ take over your duties tonight; I'm off all day today anyway, so I can cover for you. No one will know about the change but us. The fewer people that know about this, the better."

"You'd do that for me?" Brown asked, his face brightening as all of his scheduling difficulties had been solved thanks to the generosity of his associate and good friend.

"Sure, no problem—on the condition that you tell me how everything went between you and Ms. Alvarez. Or, how about this: a month from now, all four of us could go on a double date and you pay for everything."

"Deal on both counts!" Brown agreed grinning. "I could really use a drink right about now. Besides, my shift wouldn't have started until 5:30, so we can share a drink or two until then. What do you say?"

"I'll take you up on that offer of a drink, Brown. I think we both could put a nice cold beer to good use."

The two friends went to the nearest pub and sat down at the bar.

"I propose a toast," Jones said, raising his glass.

"A toast to what?" Brown asked, raising his also.

"Here's to wishing you every success in your endeavour this evening, Agent Brown."

"And here's to hoping you have many more dates with the lovely Ms. Lara Rodgers, Agent Jones," responded Brown.

They clinked their glasses together and drank. They talked until both had to leave. When they parted, each wished the other good luck, shook hands and headed off to their tasks--Jones monitoring the usually quiet G-sector and Brown killing time until he could maintain a watchful eye on the goings-on at _Verdi's_, one of the very few of the Matrix's gourmet restaurants that was not owned by the Merovingian.

lllll

Armed now with the information he needed, Brown drove past the restaurant several times where Celia and Smith were dining. Throughout the evening, he had circled his sporty BMW Z series convertible around the building, as he tried to peer inside the fogged-up windows of the eating establishment to get a better peek of the events as they unfolded between Celia and Smith. But alas, Brown's surveillance proved to be unsuccessful. After not being able to detect any visual signs of the couple, he had quickly deduced that Smith had probably chosen a secluded spot in the back of the restaurant so that he would not be disturbed.

As time dragged on, the more worried Brown became. Smith was probably in full-blown seduction mode by now, trying to get his latest potential conquest drunk with an expensive bottle of Dom. Although Brown was confident that Ms. Alvarez could hold her own in public, how long could she fend him off before being forced to succumb to his sexual advances once they were alone? Smith was perfectly satisfied with consummating one-night stands in either the backseat of his car or in his apartment; all he needed was an hour or two of privacy and the debauchery—as well as the woman herself—would be finished and forgotten.

Not if I can help it, Brown thought, determined that Celia would not become the latest notch on Smith's bedpost, documenting his track record of conquests that meant no more to him than the dirt he scraped off the bottom of his shoe. I will do whatever I have to have to prevent that from happening. Celia deserves to be treated with dignity and respect; not tossed out the next morning like yesterday's newspaper.

Brown had half a mind to park the car and storm into the restaurant but then thought better of it. If I do that, then not only will I embarrass Celia, I would jeopardize my job. How could I explain to Smith that I am not on assignment right now monitoring G-sector for rebel activity? Even though Agent Jones so graciously volunteered to take over my duties for tonight, Smith would not let an unauthorized change in the assignment roster to go unpunished, he thought hopelessly. As he brooded over the inevitable outcome of the wretched evening, it began to rain, forcing the young agent to close the top on his vehicle.

After taking another swipe around the block, Brown stopped the car because of traffic and was surprised to see Celia outside, standing alone on the sidewalk in the pouring rain trying without success to hail a cab.

Driving quickly, Brown manoeuvred his Beemer and pulled up next to her.

"Would you like a lift, Ms. Alvarez?" he called out, simultaneously lowering the passenger side window so she could see who had hailed her. He smiled in an encouraging manner and she raised her eyebrows in surprise when she recognized him.

"Agent Brown! What are you doing here?" she asked, gratefully accepting his offer of a ride. Now it was Brown's turn to look surprised. In comparison to Celia's usual attire, her current wardrobe was not only conservative, it looked downright frumpy.

Come to think of it, she kind of reminds me of my old chemistry teacher from my academy days. What was the old battleaxe's name? Oh, yes I remember now, Ms. Oppenheimer. But Celia's true persona was a far cry from the dried up old maid that tormented he and his classmates.

"That's an interesting look for you, isn't it?" he asked curiously. Jones had told him that her friend had done her best to downgrade Celia's clothes and attractiveness factor and from where Brown sat, there was no question that Lara had succeeded admirably. However, there was no denying that Celia's exotic beauty shone out from behind her dowdy appearance.

Celia laughed; it was a light, pleasant sound and Brown could not help from responding to it. Could it be that she really is glad to be with me, he thought, a faint feeling of hope growing inside of him.

"I would have done anything, anything, to prevent Smith from mauling me later on. It was all Lara's idea that I dress like this. She told me that what had worked for her up until now in not engaging his notice and she thought it might work for me. And it did! You should have seen his face when he saw me! It was hilarious! Even though I got stuck out in the rain, I don't care--all that matters to me is that I didn't have to sleep with that bastard!" Celia's date with Smith was over and she was almost giddy with happiness. And to top the evening off, she was alone with Agent Brown and with a little manoeuvring on her part, he just might be willing to spend time with her.

The relief was plainly written on her face and Brown had to admit that Smith must need some form of visual repair if he was not able to see the loveliness that lay beneath the subdued exterior.

"That accent of yours, I never really noticed it before," Brown remarked, after analyzing her speech patterns and tone inflections, the data informed him that Celia's accent had come from the New York City area.

"Oh, that!" Celia giggled, "that is something that I try to keep hidden but you know the old saying: 'you can take the girl out of New York, but you can't take the New York out of the girl.' I swear, Smith just stared at me when he heard it—he wasn't too pleased, I can tell you that! But my accent comes back when I get really angry or really drunk. Lara and I finished off a bottle of tequila before I had to meet Smith. I reeked of booze and you could smell it on my breath a mile away! She thought it wouldn't hurt to exaggerate the way I talk a bit and she was right! I sound like a cast member on that cable TV show about gangsters in New Jersey."

Brown, impressed by her cleverness and the fact the she did not want or get to sleep with Smith, smiled at her and said, "I don't care what you are wearing, you still look pretty terrific to me."

Celia lowered her eyes. "Thank you," she said quietly.

He noticed that Celia shivered and chastised himself for not attending to her needs earlier.

"I think you should go home and change into something dry," he said.

Celia agreed. This is my chance to finally talk to him, she thought. "Would you like to come up to my place? It will only take me a minute to change clothes and then we can talk or something."

Brown agreed readily. Like Jones, he had admired the object of his desire from a distance for far too long and like Jones, he would take advantage of this opportunity to get to know this intriguing and intoxicatingly beautiful woman better.

lllll

Celia had changed into the most comfortable yet unrevealing clothing she thought was appropriate for her first tête-à-tête with Agent Brown. It was nothing more than an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt but Celia knew that if she was comfortable, then the more likely it would be that Brown would be at his ease in no time.

Tucking her feet under her, Celia sat on the sofa and was amazed at how different Brown's attitude was now compared to the demeanour and expressionless face that was his workday manner. Every time she saw him in passing at the Agency Building, Brown's typical behaviour was as cold as if he had been taking lessons from Agent Smith. But now, away from the office, his manner was warm and inviting and Celia could not help but shake her head in amazement at the transformation.

"What's so funny?" Brown asked, cocking his head quizzically.

"Nothing. It's just like the Agent Brown at the office is completely different than the one sitting across from me in my own living room."

"Which of my two personas do you prefer?" he asked, intrigued.

"The way you are now," Celia stated emphatically. "You are so much more open to approach."

"Thank you. And I have to say that you are not what I expected in private either."

Celia raised her eyebrows. "Oh? What did you expect me to be in private, Agent Brown?"

"First, just call me Brown. Second, I don't really know what I expected. I mean, the way you dress at work, one gets the impression that…um, well…"

"That I am easy? Did you think I was going to sleep with you because you gave me a ride home?" Celia asked her eyes dark with offence. "Do you think so little of me?" Celia said, her voice a strangled whisper.

"Well--"

"Well, nothing!" she snapped. "Despite what you may think by the clothes I wear, I am not a slut or a whore or any other derogatory remark you can think of. I don't sleep around," Celia snapped, lifting her stubborn little chin with pride. She was angry and very hurt at his assumption, and Brown read it in her face and sought to apologize.

"I am sorry if I hurt you in any way, I did not mean it, please believe me."

"I dress the way I do because I feel pretty. Is it so hard to believe that when a woman dresses provocatively, that she wants men to notice her? Every woman wants to be noticed and I am no different. I like it when men look at me." But the man I wanted most to look at me was you, Celia thought but did not say it aloud.

They certainly do see you, Brown thought, and I did too. I have grossly misunderstood her, for I always thought that judging by the way she dresses, she was always on the prowl for a new conquest—a feminine version of Smith. Now I see how wrong I was. Come to think of it, Brown recollected, I do not remember a single man at the office who ever bragged about being intimate with her Now I understand why—that was because she was never intimate with anyone.

He also had to admit now that he was able to observe her in a more casual setting away from the almost sterile environment of their workplace; he really liked seeing the softer side of Celia. Brown couldn't help but notice how absolutely adorable she looked in her understated clothing with her long dark locks pulled back into a ponytail with a scrunchy. Her face did not have a shred of makeup, allowing her true beauty to shine through. Without all of the cosmetics weighing down her countenance, her features appeared fresh and youthful. The combination of vulnerability and sensuality was affecting Brown greatly. He suddenly felt very sheepish for having broached the subject of her alleged lack of morals.

"If I was as easy as you think, Agent Brown, I would have slept with Smith, wouldn't I? But I didn't. I have no doubt that you will repeat each and every word of this back to your boss and when you do, tell him he can go fuck himself!" She had risen to her feet and tears of anger and humiliation glistened in her eyes.

"I think I should leave," Brown said, getting up. Damn it, he thought, could I have possibly screwed up this first meaningful meeting between us any more? You fucked up big time, Agent Brown, he thought dismally.

"That's right! Smith will be waiting for your report," Celia said scathingly. It was very difficult keeping the tears at bay; I've wanted to talk to him for so long and now I discover he thinks I am a slut! It took all of Celia's resolve not to break down in front of the man who so misjudged her.

Brown turned and walked back to her. "Now it is you who are jumping to conclusions, Ms—I mean, Celia. I am not nor have I ever been Smith's stool pigeon or lackey or whatever term you can think of. Smith is my boss. Period. He is not my friend nor will he ever be. You are confusing me with Jeffrey Montgomery—_he_ is the office snitch, not me. I will repeat none of what happened between us to anyone, except perhaps Agent Jones. He is as good a friend to me as Ms. Rodgers is to you. It was no coincidence that we met tonight—Jones told me where you and Smith would be dining and I thought I'd see if I could help you in some way without directly interfering."

"You did that for me?" Celia asked her hand on his sleeve to prevent him from leaving just yet. She had never been this physically close to him except on a professional level before but they were here, in her apartment, having a thoroughly non-businesslike conversation as any other normal man and woman.

From the moment that Celia's hand made contact with Brown's arm, his stiff demeanour quickly softened. Looking into her dark doe-like eyes, they seemed to be beseeching him, keeping him rooted to where he stood. Behind the gratitude present in those twin chocolate brown orbs, was also a hint of loneliness that called out to him, stirring his own feelings of yearning. It was all he could do to not to gather Celia up in his arms and hold her tightly against him.

Is this wrong, he wondered. Should I be feeling this way? We agents have not been programmed with the desire for companionship, at least not when it comes to the female members of the AI community The Source has always assumed that the collective interaction between us agents would always suffice. That our shared experiences and camaraderie with our fellow sentient colleagues would sustain us emotionally and there would be no need for us to pair off and mate.

Looking at Celia, Agent Brown now realized that the Source had been wrong, dead wrong. The Machine Mainframe never took into account that their creations had become self-aware and as such now possessed the capability to grow, develop, and most importantly, evolve as emotional beings in their own right. It was only natural, the next step on the evolutionary track.

To feel affection and attraction for the opposite sex was what the God of the Bible had instilled in the first humans so that they could populate the earth. Basic urges, that were so primal, so primitive and yet they had guaranteed the dispersal and endurance of humankind.

"Go forth and multiply." Isn't that what Jehovah had told the first man and woman? They most certainly followed His command to the letter, didn't they, Brown thought wryly, as he recalled the overpopulation that polluted and ultimately destroyed the world at the end of the twentieth century.

As he continued to ponder the reasons for his own conflicting feelings for the woman standing before him, Brown could not help but think to himself, if God is the embodiment of love and man was created in His image, then it would stand to reason that He granted humans the capacity to feel and share this sentiment not only with their own kind but with the other creatures that inhabited the planet, including early manifestations of AI. Weren't artificially intelligent beings ultimately created in man's own image? Then why should love be exclusively experienced by human beings? It is then safe to assume that the more sophisticated AI became, the more we inexorably resembled our creators in every respect, not just physically.

It has now become perfectly clear that emotions are necessary. They are what give a person their inherent uniqueness and offer the possibility for a fulfilled existence. Without them, I am a soulless shell, existing solely for the sake of duty, of purpose. Well, that is not the way that I want to continue to live my life! No, not anymore, Brown thought, feeling the determination building within him.

Wordlessly he placed his hands lovingly on either side of Celia's face. His grey eyes had never lost contact with hers as he tried to read and detect the message hidden in her dark gaze. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for and took it as an open invitation. Leaning his face in towards hers, Agent Brown's lips quickly but softly made contact with Celia's.

As for Ms. Alvarez, she was taken aback at first. This sudden gesture of affection had caught her completely off guard. As Brown deepened the kiss, she moaned slightly, enjoying the sensuous connection of their joined mouths. Brown felt her mouth open a bit so he tentatively slid his tongue in halfway, however when Celia's arms wrapped themselves around his slender waist, he boldly pushed his tongue into her sweet oral cavity the rest of the way. Immediately, Celia began to glide her tongue against his, revelling in the sensations of his soft, moist lips, the slight stubble of his five o'clock shadow raking lightly against her skin and his manly scent filled her nasal sensors, nearly causing her pheromones to launch into hyper drive.

God it's been so long since I've been kissed like this, Celia thought to herself. When Brown's hands left her face and began to caress her back, it felt like heaven to her and she didn't want the kiss to end. But like all good things, their lip-lock had come to its eventual conclusion.

A little groan mingled with disappointment escaped Celia as she felt the warmth of Brown's lips depart from hers. Brown in turn had pulled his face away so that he could look upon the woman he had just kissed. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he encountered the adorable little pout on Celia's moist lips. Her eyes were still closed as she waited for him to kiss her again, but instead of granting her non-verbal request, Agent Brown just asked, "Well, Ms. Alvarez, did that answer your question?"

"Huh?" solicited a very absorbed and equally confused Celia. As she opened her eyes, she shook her head in an effort to drive out the self-induced trance that she was under. However, the instant that she saw Brown's pleasant smile and clear grey eyes, poor Celia was spellbound once more. Her bewildered, flustered state just endeared her even more to Brown. Brown couldn't help but chuckle, as he found humour in Celia's current predicament.

Finally, he decided to rescue her, "Celia, don't you know that I would do anything to keep you safe? The thought of Smith touching you was killing me. I had to do something to prevent him from harming you, so I switched shifts with Agent Jones so I could be near that restaurant tonight."

With a soft child-like voice Celia asked, "You did?"

"Yes, I did and I would do it again if it meant that I could be near you."

Celia was overwhelmed, and extremely flattered by Agent Brown's recent actions. She was at a loss for words, not knowing quite to say next. In all of her 132 years of existence during five versions of the Matrix, a male had never defended her honour.

lllll

Celia had all but given up on love, convincing herself that it the stuff of fairytales, nothing more. After the dozen or so frogs that she had kissed over the years, Celia had come to the sad conclusion there was no such thing as a gallant prince charging up on his noble steed ready to whisk her away.

Her past experience with men had been a pathetic anthology of losers, abusers and freaks, which resulted in the hardening of her heart and turning her back on the possibility of ever being happy. However a couple of years ago a little glimmer of hope had been ignited the day Celia first cast her eyes on the new young agent recruit, Cadet Brown. In those days, he was still going through the academy and had a lot to learn. Despite his youthful inexperience, Brown's enthusiasm and determination to do well saw him through his rigorous studies and training. Despite her better judgment, Celia found him to be absolutely, irrefutably, and irresistibly charming. But her fear of getting hurt won out and she had decided not to allow herself to get too infatuated with him.

What I most remember about those days is no matter how busy he was, Brown always went out of his way to say "Good morning" to me, Celia recollected. Her mind also recounted how the young resourceful cadet found out what she liked to eat for breakfast He would actually take the time to stop by _Starbuck's _every morning to pick up her favourite latté and a blueberry scone.

"I think somebody likes you," Lara had teased her one such morning after Brown's special breakfast delivery, but Celia had found the very idea preposterous.

"Don't be an airhead! He doesn't like me and besides Brown is at least fifty-five years younger than me! I don't have time for him anyway, he's a child," Celia had retorted.

"Hey don't get mad at me! I'm only stating the obvious! And besides, you need someone to clear out the cobwebs collecting in your underwear!" Lara countered back.

"For your information, A) Brown is not my type. And B) I'm not wearing any underwear! It ruins the look of this skirt! Finally C) you're a fine one to talk, Miss "I-Haven't-Had-Sex–Since-Acid-Washed-Jeans-Were-In-Style!"

Lara rolled her eyes, and said, "Fine, be a bitch! What's the matter with you anyway? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were on the rag!"

Celia had refused to respond to her friend. She knew Lara had been right. She did sense that Brown was attracted to her, but Celia had already put up her defences, the invisible force field of bitchiness that always warded off any would-be suitors, including Brown. After a few months of deflecting all of his amorous overtures, Brown finally got the message that Celia wasn't interested in him so he quietly had moved on.

Brown, on the hand, had never understood what he could have possibly done to have brought on Celia's "look but don't touch" attitude. The woman was complex web of contradictions. Every pixel of what she was comprised exuded sex. In addition, Celia openly revelled in the power of her femininity, and knew perfectly well the effect that she had on men and yet there had always been an undercurrent of sub-zero temperatures.

lllll

With her mind now firmly planted in the present, Celia recriminated herself for being such a fool. She knew now that Brown had never stopped caring for her, his protective behaviour this evening was concrete proof of that.

"I'm sorry, Brown," she apologized.

"Sorry for what?"

"For being such a stupid, hard-headed stubborn jackass and for treating you so badly all those years ago." Celia said quietly. Ashamed, she turned her head away and could not bring herself to face him.

Placing his index finder under her chin, Brown turned her head back to face him with gentle determination.

When he saw that the glistening tears that had formed in her eyes his heart went out to her, "Celia, whatever happened is in the past, it's done, forgotten. All I care about is here and now. All I care about is you."

Brown's words moved her so much that Celia began to bawl like a child; she couldn't help it. She turned away from him but found herself enveloped in his strong arms Giving in to the stress and misery she had been feeling all day because of her upcoming date with Smith, she wept freely and openly.

"That's all right, Celia. Let it all out; you have needed a shoulder to cry on all day. You can use mine for however long you need," Brown said softly, nuzzling her hair and enjoying the feel of her body in his arms. Eventually, Celia got a hold of herself and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief Brown held out to her. I must look a mess, she thought. No woman looks good after she has been crying her eyes out and Celia furtively stole a peek at Brown's face. He did not look away from her; in fact, he looked directly at her. In his grey eyes, she saw compassion and empathy, not scorn.

He still cares for me, she realized suddenly as she stared into his warm grey eyes. After I rebuked his advances time after time all those years ago, he still saved a spot for me in his heart, no doubt wondering if or when I would come to my senses and see what was under my nose all this time. Well, it took long enough, but I have seen the error of my ways.

lllll

It was nearly dawn when Celia checked her watch.

"Oh my God, look at the time!" she exclaimed. I don't think I've ever experienced such pleasure just talking to a man before, she thought and shook her head in disbelief. Brown stayed here the whole time and listened to me blather on about everything in my life, well almost everything. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't tell him about _that_ dark time in my life; the whole reason I am distrustful of men to this day. I dare not risk Brown finding out, for if he did, I'm sure our relationship would end before it even had a chance to start. No, Brown must never find out about my past.

I have to admit that I was surprised that he was interested in what I had to say. He was so sweet and sensitive to my needs; he did not want to leave me alone while I was so upset He stayed with me to the very end and from what I can tell, he enjoyed it, he actually _enjoyed_ being with me and he stayed because he _wanted_ to, not because he felt he had to. I have never had a man stay the night and not want sex as a payment for putting up with me. Celia blushed as her stomach growled and apologized.

"There is a _Starbuck's_ around the corner from here, Celia. How about a latté and a blueberry scone? I remember you used to like those."

Celia smiled at him. "You remembered what I like after all these years?"

Brown nodded and smiled warmly. "I haven't forgotten anything about you, Celia; I remember everything. Shall we go then?" he asked, extending his hand to her. Without hesitation, Celia took it and they walked to the coffee shop hand in hand.

My knight did not come to my rescue on a white horse and wearing gleaming armour, Celia thought, he came driving a shining BMW.


	8. Threats and Roses

Threats and Roses

Disclaimer: smithsbabe65 and myself don't own anything that is associated with the Matrix, so there.

"Montgomery, my office, _now_!" Smith barked over the phone. The diminutive agent cringed as the phone was slammed down in his ear. Obviously, his date with Ms. Alvarez on Saturday did not go well, Jeffrey thought, as he scuttled to obey Smith's directive. He had learned that all orders that were issued from the lead agent's office were to be obeyed immediately for Smith was not a program who liked waiting.

Smith was pacing back and forth behind his massive oak and walnut-inlay desk and Montgomery took his usual chair. He knew from past experience when it was wise to begin speaking when his boss was in one of his moods and waited to be invited to speak and give his views when it was required.

"That little slut! Do you know what she did to me Saturday night, Montgomery? She humiliated me in public and she will pay for that!" Smith glanced at him and his subordinate knew the time had come; Montgomery was well aware that it behoved Smith to volunteer the information openly—his insatiable vanity made it more palatable if he were asked.

"What did she do, sir?"

"When I arrived to pick her up, she was drunk. There was alcohol on her clothes and on her breath. I thought she would change into something more appropriate for an evening out but she staggered to her purse and said she was ready! It is not very often that I am at a loss for something to say, but I certainly was then, I can tell you. When we arrived, I selected a table at the very back of the restaurant to avoid being seen by anyone who would know who I was.

I had pre-ordered a bottle of '54 Dom Perignon ahead of time and once it arrived, I realised I had made a mistake. The little tramp couldn't wait to get her greedy little mitts on it and instead of using the proper glass for its consumption, she used the water glass on the table, filling it up to the top. The stupid cow guzzled it as if it were beer, instead of savouring it the way it was meant. Disgusting."

Smith turned away in revulsion, a scowl on his face. He had gone to a lot of expense in preparation for his date with Celia and at the end of it, he had fully expected to be repaid by sampling her intimate favours--instead, he had been humiliated and spent the rest of the evening alone and frustrated.

Jeffrey smirked to himself for he knew that if there was one thing Smith abhorred in a female dinner companion, it was a woman who did not know which piece of cutlery to use for each course or the proper usage of stemware. Women should be seen and not heard at the dinner table, Smith had told him once. Females should be a compliment to their male companions—there should not be a hair out of place and they should be impeccably groomed at all times. It also did not hurt if she had the looks of a magazine cover girl. First and foremost, however, they must not be allowed to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol either; that was the purpose of taverns and bars.

Still, however, Jeffrey was disappointed with how the evening had turned out for his boss—it was an unspoken agreement between that as soon as Smith was bored with his conquest of any young lady that had caught his fancy, the road was clear for Montgomery to indulge himself and his carnal desires with the young lady afterward.

And getting a taste of the fiery Ms. Celia Alvarez was something that Jeffrey Montgomery desired very much. To feel her ample breasts in his hands as he roughly groped them, hearing her whimper at the pain he would cause her to feel for every insult, every derogatory remark or look she had ever directed at him was something he had long looked forward to.

He would humiliate her, using her body for his pleasure and gratification—she would cry out as he entered her roughly and cringe at the foul names he would use, his lips against her ear so that she would have no choice but to hear what he used: slut, whore, cunt, twat—he would use them all. With the aid of a chosen blue pharmaceutical pill, his erection would last for hours. Hours of listening to Ms. Alvarez beg him to stop, each thrust would hurt her more and more and when he finally got tired of listening to her whine and whimper, he would shut her up as his member filled her wide mouth--after he had fucked her thoroughly, of course.

Suppressing a sigh of regret at a missed opportunity, Montgomery hastened to raise Smith's spirits with the unexpected tidbit of information he had managed to glean that morning.

"I happen to know that two deliveries of flowers were made to the secretarial pool this morning," Montgomery said. Smith half-turned his head to listen—there was a suggestion that more information would be forthcoming and Montgomery was not the kind of program to keep any secrets from his boss.

"Really?" Smith asked, his eyes narrowed and calculating. "To Ms. Rodgers and Ms. Alvarez, no doubt?"

Montgomery nodded. "Correct as always, sir. Lara and Celia received flowers from Agents Brown and Jones respectively. Long-stemmed roses, to be exact."

Smith sneered, a disdainful gleam in his eye that he directed at his underling but that Montgomery entirely failed to notice. "You've done very well by me this morning, Jeffrey, I won't forget this," Smith said amiably, patting the odious little program on the back and Smith fought the urge to wipe his hand after doing so.

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Celia and Lara were very talkative on their subway ride to work. Each had lots to say regarding what had happened to each over the weekend.

"So, what happened on your date with Smith?" Lara demanded. "You never called me Saturday night to tell me what went down, so tell me now. I am dying to know!"

"Where should I start?" Celia asked. "You were right; Smith absolutely hated the sight and smell of me and ordered me to leave almost as soon as our menus arrived! It was priceless, girl, you should have seen the look on his face! But the best part is what happened afterwards. While I was waiting outside getting soaking wet from trying to hail a cab, who shows up but Agent Brown!"

It was at that point that Celia had to stop her recital--their stop was next and they had to concentrate getting through the throng of people to the exit doors. Once inside the Agency Building lobby, they hurried to their cubicles where they could have more privacy.

All thoughts of getting her curiosity satisfied about what had happened to her friend disappeared completely as Lara's jaw dropped when she saw that a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses had been placed at her cubicle, almost taking up her entire work area.

"Who sent those?" Celia asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Never mind who sent these, who sent _those_?" Lara said, pointing to Celia's cubicle where an almost identical arrangement was waiting for her at her desk.

"I know," Celia said, "Jones sent yours and Brown sent these to me. Open your card and I'll open mine." She opened the tiny white envelope that had been tucked in among the crimson blooms and was surprised that the flowers were not from Agent Brown as she had originally thought.

"Celia, I think I might have got yours by mistake….oh!" Lara squeaked, looking up at her friend. "These flowers are from Agent Brown and they are for _me_! Listen to this:

_Ms. Lara Rodgers,_

_You are truly the ultimate miracle worker and if you  
ever need a favour, you know where to find me._

_Sincerely,  
Agent Brown._

"Can you believe that?" Lara asked, her eyes and face aglow. "Who are your flowers from?"

"Listen to this," Celia said, and read:

_Ms. Celia Alvarez_,

_Under normal circumstances, your verbal outburst  
towards myself would warrant disciplinary measures.  
Instead, I offer you my sincerest thanks._

Yours truly,  
Agent Jones

Both women were staring at one other, open-mouthed and utterly speechless, when two tall, handsome well-dressed men stopped and looked in the doorway that housed the secretarial pool. Agents Brown and Jones entered the room but before they could proceed into the room, the displeased voice of their superior officer boomed out loudly, "Agent Brown, Agent Jones, have you forgotten we have a meeting with the Architect this morning? A place of business during office hours is not the place to conduct adolescent shenanigans like note-passing and gift giving!"

Smith strode angrily into the room and with a snarl, snatched up both bouquets of flowers and hurled them into the nearest wastepaper basket.

"Furthermore, I will not tolerate any interruption in the day-to-day operation of this building by any of its employees. Ms. Rodgers and Ms. Alvarez, you will not continue to fraternize with any of my agents in any way, shape or form, is that clear?"

Lara's lower lip trembled and she ducked her head so Smith would not see the angry tears that spilled from her eyes. Celia, however, met Smith's gaze brazenly and did not break eye contact until he turned away. You prick, Celia thought, seething with anger, just because I wouldn't sleep with you, you take your frustration of not getting laid out on those who have a relationship you can only dream about.

"Come with me," he barked to Jones and Brown. Behind Smith's back, Jones cast a regretful look at Lara before meeting Brown's angry glance. A muscle twitched in Brown's jaw and his hand clenched into a tight fist. Jones imperceptibly shook his head at his friend and the two senior agents glared at the retreating back of their superior.

"We'll call you later. Take care of her for me until then," Jones mouthed silently, indicating Lara with a jerk of his chin. Celia nodded her head, showing that she had understood as Jones and Brown hurried away.

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"Aw honey, don't cry," Celia said soothingly as she held Lara by the shoulders.

"But you heard Smith. We can't even speak to Jones or Brown unless it's in a professional capacity!" Lara managed to say in between sniffles.

Turning her much shorter friend to face her, Celia's eyes sparkled with mischief. Conveying grim determination to defy Agent Smith's so-called decree from on high, the spitfire Latina said, "Not if I have anything to say about it! Stick with me kid! Where there's a will, there's a way!"

With doubt flooding her system, Lara looked at her friend apprehensively. Shaking her head from side to side, Lara countered, "I don't know, Celia. If we even look like we're being friendly with our men, then we'll get the boot for sure! Or worse yet, sent upstairs to face the old man and you know what that means if we do!"

Instead of getting upset at the probability of deletion by the Source, Celia simply smiled and pointed out to Lara, "Did you just hear yourself? You just called Brown and Jones 'our men'!"

The sudden realization of her true feelings for Agent Jones hit Lara like freight train. "Oh my God," she said in wonderment. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"It's all the more reason to fight for our right to have a personal life and tell Smith where he can cram his 'orders'!" Celia gently chided.

Lara nodded in agreement. As both women walked back to their respective workspaces, Ms. Rodgers infused with a new sense of verve, announced to her greatest co-conspirator, "C'mon girl we have to come up with a plan! But first things first." Halting briefly by the waste receptacle, Lara scooped up their callously discarded bouquets. "I'm going to put these beauties in some much needed water!"

"Now that's the spirit! I'll go find a couple of vases to put the roses in. I think there still a few of those cheap plastic ones left over from the Christmas party in the storage closet," Celia called out to Lara as she sashayed her way to said closet.

Fishing out her keys from the hiding place between her ample bosoms, Celia Alvarez fumbled around for a few moments until she found the right one that would open the door. Quickly she inserted the key, gave the knob a turn, and then made her way inside the stuffy storage facility. Flicking on the switch, she ceremoniously said, "And let there be light. Phew, it sure is filthy in here! Clearly the cleaning crew hasn't been in here in a long while," Celia declared to herself as she began to search for the plastic vases on the rows of dusty shelves. After a few minutes of rummaging around, her search proved fruitless. Giving up, Celia turned to leave when something on the far end of the closet caught her eye.

Compelled to investigate, Celia moved in deeper into the recesses of the closet. When she reached the other end, her eyes widened in surprise at what she found.

"Another door?" she asked as inquisitiveness got the better of her. Now what in the hell is another door doing here, I wonder. I've worked on this floor for the last eight years and as far as I know, there has only ever been one way in and one way out of this closet.

A series of recollections of having been in this particular closet in times past rushed through Celia's memory banks. Not a single reminiscence revealed a second doorway to have ever existed in the cramped little space. Staring at the door, with her curiosity in overdrive, the desire to learn what lied on the other side had completely taken her over.

Trying the knob, she found much to her disappointment that entry way was locked tighter than a drum.

Damn!

Wait a sec, I _am_ a key holder in this joint, Celia rapidly reminded herself. Aside from few sections that were off-limits for security reasons, Ms. Alvarez had been given a level three clearance when she had reached her fifth year of employment with the Agency. Along with receiving wall plaque commemorating her promotion she had also been authorized to carry a set of a keys that would allow her to access almost any room in the government building. Of course, the agents' offices in conjunction with Architect's were barred from her along with other key areas, but now she wondered if the prohibition extended to this forgotten doorway.

"Well there's only one way to find out," Celia said out loud. Reaching into her blouse, she pulled out her keys once more, but this time she didn't need to take the time to find the correct one. Somehow, somewhere deep in her programming she knew which key to use. Taking a deep breath, she introduced it into the key hole and turned it.

Much to her surprise and excitement, the door was unlocked. Okey-dokey, here goes nothing, she thought to herself. Slowly opening the door, it gave way as Celia stepped inside. Almost immediately she was met by a light so brilliant, so bright it was almost blinding.

As her eyes were trying to adjust to their new environment, she was startled beyond belief when she heard a woman's voice say, "Hello, Celia honey. I'm so glad you could come. Why don't you sit down? Sorry I don't have any blueberry scones to offer you, but I made a fresh batch of cookies. Would you like one?"

lllll

Damn, where is that crazy girl, Lara wondered worriedly. It's been ages since she went to look for something to put these flowers into.

Looking down at her wristwatch, she cursed silently when the timepiece established that her best friend, Celia had been absent from her cubicle for exactly twenty minutes.

With a ragged sigh, Lara did her best to look busy, but with each passing second, her sense of alarm was blossoming into full-blown panic.

I'm going to kill her when she gets back. I've been covering for her all this time, and the way that asshole Smith has been hovering over our desks like a Thanksgiving Day parade balloon; I don't think I can keep up this charade much longer.

Lara had been right. Agent Smith for some reason had made his annoying presence known all morning, which was highly unusual for someone like him. If Smith was known for anything, it was the inescapable fact that he was a creature of habit. In fact, the head agent was so methodical and so highly predictable, that both she and Celia had committed his daily subroutines to memory.

Smith, for whatever reason, preferred to brood in the inner sanctum of his opulently decorated office for the better part of the workday. He considered most field assignments to be "grunt work" and as such, he delegated the most tiresome of tasks to the agents that worked under him, namely Agents Brown and Jones. The only times he would emerge from his self-imposed fortress of solitude was to carry out his duties on a high profile case, where he could assert a superior's imposing presence and mug for the cameras of the news photographers.

And of course, there was his nightly ritual of selecting a fresh victim for his own perverse amusement.

Yes, that was Smith in a nutshell. A vain, self-absorbed bureaucrat, whose only source of pleasure is tormenting others, be it in the office or in the confines of his bedroom. A true sadist, a modern-day Marquis de Sade, thought Lara nastily.

What troubled her most was that Smith had broken out of his schedule to slink around the office in an almost predatory fashion, stopping by a cubicle or two to glare menacingly at its occupant before moving on.

As Lara continued to observe him, hazel green eyes narrowed in suspicion, she couldn't help thinking to herself, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he's looking for something. But what could it be?

Then suddenly when Agent Smith sharply turned and made a beeline in her direction, Lara's heart leapt into her throat. That's when it dawned on her, he's not looking for _something_, he's looking for _someone_.

Oh, God! He's looking for Celia!

lllll

"Celia, I'm sorry sweetie. Did I frighten you?" said the warm voice with grandmotherly tones.

Now that her vision had grown accustomed to the lighting, Celia began to slowly make out shapes and images. Looking around she encountered what appeared to be an avocado green Kenmore refrigerator with multicoloured plastic magnetic letters sticking to the smooth metallic surface.

At first the letters looked like a happy little jumble of symbols that a child might have carelessly slapped onto the face of the cooling unit, but upon closer inspection, and much to Celia's astonishment, the words "knowledge is power" were spelled out.

Unable to take her eyes off the face of the outdated fridge with its cryptic message for all to see, Celia finally found her voice and asked, "Where am I?"

"I believe that's the question of the ages, my dear. Where are any of us? Are we really where we think we are, or are everything we see, touch and feel just a flight of fancy, an elaborate dream cooked up by the overactive synapses of our brains?"

O.K., this broad is really starting to piss me off, thought Celia. Fuming, she whirled around to confront the person that was trying to confuse her with mumbo-jumbo bullshit. "Now wait a goddamned minute, what the fuck does that…?

However not quite prepared for who she found, the sight of the elderly but stately African American woman seated at the kitchen table caused Celia to stop speaking in mid-sentence. As if struck by a lightening bolt, the Puerto Rican sexpot immediately dropped to her knees in a sign of reverence and respect.

Not daring to look up, Celia kept her head bowed as she said, "Oracle, I meant no disrespect. I-I didn't know where I was and…"

Feeling a set of soft hands gently lift her up off the floor, Celia heard the Oracle say, "Don't be silly! And please don't genuflect on my account. For God's sake, you make me feel like some holy relic. I'm just a program, just like you."

When Celia finally up off the floor she was met by the kindest set of eyes that an AI dared to posses. Eyes so dark, they seemed fathomless, and yet radiated such pure joy Celia felt engulfed by it.

As she was being led through the small space Celia now recognized as the Oracle's cozy kitchen, she was a bundle of nerves.

Her mind was racing with anxious thoughts, Jesus Christ; I'm in the presence of the most influential woman in the entire Matrix! Not even the great Persephone herself can hold a candle to the power the Oracle can wield with just one thought! Hell, if truth be told, _she_ was the real power behind the Architect's so-called throne. Without her, the father of the Matrix is a shadow of his former self.

"Yes, I know," the Oracle replied quietly.

Stunned that the older woman had tapped into her thoughts it was all Celia could do not to stare dumbly at her with her mouth agape, but alas she failed miserably.

With a knowing little smirk the Oracle said, "Close your mouth dear, before you attract flies. You know very well that I can access a program's files and download its thought patterns any time I wish through simple physical contact. The moment I helped you off my floor our minds were instantly connected."

The Oracle's words were meant to comfort her rattled guest, however judging from Celia's erratic breathing and accelerated heartbeat, the poor girl seemed more on the verge of having an anxiety attack.

Celia vaguely noticed when she was quickly ushered into a chair. Then out of nowhere, it seemed, a glass of water was being handed to her.

"Here, drink this. It will make you feel better," a male voice said to her.

Obediently, Celia began to gulp down the contents of the glass, closing her eyes as she did so. The cool soothing liquid moistened her lips and mouth as it went down her oesophagus easily, calming her nerves as it washed into her stomach.

Only after the last drop of water had been drained did Celia decide to open her eyes. She gasped when she saw the face of a friendly looking diminutive Asian gentleman wearing thick-lens glasses smiling at her.

"All better?" he asked, still smiling kindly.

Nodding slowly, Celia's sensors made a quick scan of the man's code to find out if he was friend or foe. Much to her relief the scan revealed that he was a program, although he was of an outdated design.

Then he spoke to her again, "I'm glad you are feeling better, Celia."

"Who are you and how do you know my name?"

With a little chortle, he apologized, "Forgive me; I must have you at a disadvantage. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Brian Chen, but you may call me the Key Maker. Everybody does."

"The _Key Maker_?" parroted Celia, not knowing what to make of all of this.

"Yes, that is his name, but it is also his purpose. Brian provides the keys that unlock the doors to endless possibilities. And together, my dear Celia, we are going to help you and your friend Lara discover the endless possibilities for you both," the Oracle interjected. "But first, you must get back to the office as your friend is rapidly running out of excuses and your continued absence might get her into trouble. Don't worry child, now that you know where to find me, come see me again and we can talk some more. We have a lot to discuss." The Oracle smiled kindly as Celia forgot herself and curtsied to the older woman before exiting the door from whence she had come.

lllll

"Where is Ms. Alvarez?" Smith demanded of Lara a short time later. He had not forgotten one detail of the overheard conversation between herself and Jones in the elevator. She had told Jones that she was afraid of Smith, and he intentionally made a point of invading her personal space until she had to shrink into her chair to get some distance between them.

He smiled humourlessly when she swallowed nervously and tried to think of something to say.

"If you cannot lie faster than that, Ms. Rodgers, I suggest you not even try. I know when someone is not telling me the truth and I am not leaving until you tell me where she is—now!" he barked, watching with satisfaction as Lara flinched in terror, her face white with fear.

"You are such a spineless, frightened little mouse, aren't you?" Smith whispered, his voice low and scornful. "Afraid of everything and everyone, especially me. But I have no one else to blame for that but myself, I suppose. You know, I still remember our last one-on-one encounter in complete detail: how soft your hands were as they tried to fight me off. How your skin felt against mine. However, that was then and this is now. If you don't answer my question, I promise you that you will regret crossing me. You already know how that feels, don't you? But if you appease me, I can be very accommodating." The last word was spoken almost like an endearment, a verbal caress.

"What do you mean?" Lara asked, her voice hoarse.

"If you tell me what I want to know, then I just might be persuaded to turn a blind eye to any fraternizing with Agent Jones. Every couple in a new relationship want to see as much of the other person as possible, no? Wouldn't you like to be able to converse—or other things—during office hours without always looking over your shoulder to see if someone saw the two of you together?" he inquired and bent his tall frame so that his lips were almost touching Lara's ear, his deep voice soft, coaxing and persuasive.

"Tell me, Lara, when Jones touches you, do you ever remember how my hands felt on your skin as I did the exact same thing?"

"Oh God," Lara moaned, ice cold sweat breaking out from every virtual pore of her body.

"I see you remember," Smith crooned lazily, "I cannot help but be touched by the exactness of your memory."

_Just tell him where Celia is_, a part of Lara's mind informed her. _Tell him what he wants to know and he will leave you alone! Once he's gone, you can go to Jones and hold him in your arms and forget everything whereas if you don't do as Smith says, you won't be able to see Jones until eight long hours from now._

More than anything, Lara wanted to be enveloped in Jones' strong embrace and feel safe again. To feel him part her lips with his own and enjoy the exquisite sensation of his tongue against hers as passion erupted between them yet again…

"Well, Lara? What do you say to my proposal?" Smith asked, his close proximity and hot breath sending shivers down Lara's spine but whatever her misgivings, Lara knew she would not take the easy way out and acquiesce to Smith's request, however tempting.

"Agent Smith, I—" Lara broke off as the loud, strident tones of her friend broke the tension.

"Damn, girl," Celia said boisterously, "I am _so_ glad you had that extra maxi-pad in your purse today! My period started and you know how heavy my flow can be on the first day!" Celia tried without success to restrain the smile of glee on her face when Smith jerked himself upright and stalked out of the room, a look of supreme disgust on his face.


	9. Friends in High Places

**Friends in High Places**

**Disclaimer:** The two authors of this story, smithsbabe65 and myself, don't own anything associated with the Matrix trilogy.

lllll

"Why did you insist I come along for this business meeting?" Persephone snapped at her husband as they walked through the deserted nightclub garage back to their car.

"Because this man, although human, has heard of your beauty and brains and he wanted to meet you. Besides, he compensated you generously for the inconvenience, did he not?" The Merovingian said, lightly fingering the diamond and platinum choker his wife now wore.

"That he did," Persephone said, her anger dissipating in a moment. Receiving jewellery always brightened her mood and the Merovingian knew it.

"However, I don't know why you felt you had to buy yet another casino. How many do we have, anyway?"

"This one makes five. We have one in Atlantic City, Hong Kong, New Orleans and Monaco. I thought it might be a good idea if we included Las Vegas to our collection."

Persephone sighed. If there was one thing other than money her husband was always on the lookout for, it was the chance to make even _more_ money. She had to admit that the revenue from the casinos she and the Merovingian owned had far exceeded her expectations.

She smiled fondly, turning her mind to the other noteworthy event that had caught her attention while her husband and his business associate had been finalizing the sale.

"Did you see who else was at the restaurant?"

"Of course I did. It was hard to miss them, the way they were carrying on…" Being completely French through and through, the Merovingian always enjoyed noticing and commenting on the amorous actions of others and speculating on when a passionate tryst would take place between lovers.

"I think it is wonderful that Agent Jones finally found someone. He looked very happy."

"Happy?" her husband said incredulously. "How on earth could one tell? He never smiles; I don't think zee man even knows how!"

"Any woman could tell that he is in love simply by looking at his eyes. We have never seen him smile because up until now, he has never had a reason."

"When did they leave the restaurant, anyway?"

"Just before us, I believe," Persephone said, "for we were the last ones to go. How long have they been dating?"

"Just over a month. Six weeks perhaps."

"And what about their friends?" Persephone asked.

"Agent Brown and Celia Alvarez had their first date this evening, as a matter of fact. He procured good seats to _Phantom of the Opera_. However, I'll bet anything that they will be the first to consummate their relationship."

The Merovingian smiled as he and Persephone passed the car that Agent Jones had driven. Peering inside, he had a note of amusement in his voice as he purveyed the empty vehicle. "No sign of a passionate coupling in here; he and Ms. Rodgers must still be in the elevator, no doubt continuing to paw at one another since they obviously could not do it in the club. I suppose it is fitting; after all, inside an elevator was where they first began their relationship."

"You and I used to be like that," Persephone said, fondly reminiscent of times long past when she and her husband had energetically copulated in elevators, on the hoods of some of their cars, and, if space permitted, the backseat as well.

"I remember," the Merovingian said with a small smile, tenderly stroking Persephone's cheek. "In those days, we too were in love."

"And now?" Persephone asked, her warm brown eyes intent on her husband's face. During these last few months, he had not paid her much attention and the space beside her in their bed had gone cold and empty since his abandonment of it.

She kissed her husband impulsively and felt him respond to her advances by drawing her more closely into his embrace as he returned her kiss. Persephone moaned when his lips nuzzled her neck; the slight stubble of his cheek against her sensitive skin made a fiery jolt of lust harden her nipples immediately. The Merovingian chuckled when he felt her reaction. Persephone responded by sharply nipping his earlobe with her teeth and he groaned in turn. She had learned long ago that the lobes of his large bat-like ears were one of his erogenous zones and she felt his penis begin to harden.

"Two can play at that game, my love," he admonished gently, caressing her breasts, trailing scorching hot kisses towards her generous bosom. Persephone threw her head back and moaned with abandon, running her fingers through his hair, pulling his head down further.

"What would you like me to do now?" he said silkily, his voice hoarse with passion. He knew very well what she wanted; it had always been a game with him to hear the voice of his wife beg him to continue whatever pleasurable erotic activity he was performing on her.

"Suckle me, please!" she pleaded.

"As you wish, _Madame_," the Frenchman said somewhat smugly. With Persephone in his arms, he backed her onto the hood of their car and leaned in to continue his lovemaking. He pushed down the bodice of her evening dress and took one of Persephone's rock hard nipples into his mouth, all the while hitching up her dress above her long, svelte thighs so that he could eventually penetrate her.

Persephone thought she heard voices coming closer but did not pay them much heed. Let everyone see what we are doing I don't care, she thought rebelliously, thoroughly aroused at the idea of having sex while being watched.

Abruptly, the Merovingian was yanked off his wife. "What in zee hell?" he spat angrily. Before he could unleash a florid stream of French curses at the person or persons who were interrupting his tryst and spoiling his fun, he was whirled around and dealt a very hard blow to the side of his head, rendering him unconscious immediately.

Persephone was pulled off the hood of her car, nearly yanking her arm out of its socket. She resisted as forcefully as she could, raising her razor-sharp nails to claw and disfigure as much of her attacker as possible, but her resistance only angered the man further. Drawing his hand back, he slapped her across the face as hard as he could and continued to strike her until she fell to the ground, eliciting a moan of pain.

lllll

The elevator door opened and as soon as Lara crossed the threshold, she stopped short. A sound, a terrible sound of anguish and despair came to her ears. What was making that awful noise, she thought, suppressing the urge to cover her ears to stop from hearing it. A long time ago, Lara had made the same sound herself—in pain and despair and far from aid or assistance.

Jones had heard it too and looked around. Unfortunately, the sound could have come from anywhere inside the garage; it was vast and any noise echoed from one end to the other. The sound that accompanied it was one of anger and both Jones and Lara knew it for what it was: a woman was in danger somewhere in the enormous expanse of concrete and was crying out for assistance after being struck in some manner.

"Stay behind me," Jones ordered drawing his weapon. "We don't know what's going on and it may be dangerous." He proceeded forward slowly, all of his agent instincts on full alert.

The sound was repeated and Lara saw movement far ahead to her left. Whatever it cost her, Lara would not allow the unknown female in distress come to further harm if she could possibly help it. There was no time to obey Jones' request and go slowly—help was needed _now_. She was all too aware what can happen to a woman in the course of a few minutes at the hands of a man whose lust and anger overrode all other priorities. Lara ran forward, ignoring Jones' whispered request for her to come back and she dimly heard the pounding of his heavy footsteps as he hastened to catch up with her.

Even from this distance, she did not need to be told what was going on, she saw it clearly for herself. The Merovingian lay unmoving and unconscious on the ground and Persephone had fallen to her knees beside her husband. The second man was rummaging through the pockets of the Frenchman and Lara heard him exclaim at the amount of money that had been discovered.

"Don't count it now, let's just get the hell out of here!" said his companion, who was holding a gun at Persephone.

"Relax, man. No one is here; we have all the time we need. Christ, this guy carries a lot of money," he exclaimed, thumbing through the large billfold. He turned his head and raked an evil glance over Persephone, his gaze lingering on the necklace and the five-carat diamond bracelet she wore on her right wrist. Neither man noticed that Persephone had turned the stone of her diamond engagement ring inward so as not to be seen by her two assailants. The Merovingian had given the ring to her when they married and though their union was now one of convenience, she still treasured it and the memories of happier times.

"This chick's got some serious bling on her: check out that necklace and bracelet she's got. They should fence even more than the cash we lifted from the loser she's with," he said with a disdainful sneer, prodding the prone form of the Merovingian with his leather boot. He kicked Persephone's purse over to Greg. "Go through that and see what she's got."

Greg rifled through the small Versace purse. "A cell phone, a Blackberry and some cash and credit cards in her wallet. I think we should leave while we still can, Spike. We scored a lot tonight. Let's just leave and call it quits."

A harsh bark of laughter emanated from his associate in crime. "Hello? Are you blind? Do you see anyone else in this place 'cept us and these two?"

Persephone shifted her position slightly while the thieves' attention was on each other. She was going to wait until she could try to make her escape by whatever means she could. She rose to a crouch and started to run, but was caught when the older and larger of the two men grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her to her knees, twisting her arm behind her back.

"And where do you think you're going, pretty lady?" Spike hissed. "Wait a minute—what do we have here?" he said, wrenching the ring off Persephone's finger. "You were hiding this from us, weren't you?" He slapped her hard across the face and she fell to the ground.

"So what if I was?" Persephone snapped, speaking for the first time. "The jewellery is my property, not yours. Mark my words, my husband and I have powerful friends who will make sure that you pay for what you have done here," she said boldly.

"Oooh, did you hear that?" Spike said mockingly. "She's threatening us, I am so afraid," he said with a sneer. "But you are one damn fine looking woman, I do have to say. I've changed my mind, Greg," he said, turning his attention to his compatriot. "Instead of just robbing these two and letting it go at that, I'll think I'll indulge myself a bit; I've certainly earned it. Hold her," he ordered.

Greg held her as requested, although he held Persephone as if she might break in his hands. Spike reached out and pushed the front of her dress down so that her breasts were exposed.

"Huh, I never would have guessed these are real," Spike said, as he roughly fondled Persephone's breasts. "Oh, yeah, I think I've earned myself a little diversion with you, honey," he said gruffly, as he ran his hands over her body and with a thrill of fear, Persephone knew exactly what he had in mind. Greg's hold on her was easing as he turned his attention to staring at her chest. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman and the sight of Persephone's more than ample bosom was an awe-inspiring sight.

Understandably not desiring to be raped by two men in a lonely and deserted parking garage, Persephone looked around for anything or anyone who could help her when her eyes met those of Lara. Persephone suppressed a gasp of relief when she saw the burly form of Jones behind her. Over Lara's shoulder, Jones put a finger on his lip to bid her to be silent and she understood him.

Persephone jerked her head away so that neither Greg nor his associate would have reason to look in her potential rescuers' direction.

"You don't have the balls to try and hurt me," she said, deliberately raising her voice so that Jones' approach could not be heard.

In less than a heartbeat later, Greg was on the ground, unconscious from the butt of Jones' revolver delivered to the back of his neck. Eyeing the bulky form of his attacker as well as the formidable weapon he carried, Spike turned tail and ran for the exit.

"Jones, give me your jacket," Lara ordered and Jones obliged, discreetly turning his gaze away from Persephone until her exposed upper body was covered.

"Don't kill him," Persephone ordered, her voice shaky. Jones frowned in confusion at her request. "My husband has people who will take _good_ care of him in due time." Jones nodded his understanding and proceeded to pursue his target, leaving the two women alone.

"Your husband, is he all right?" Lara asked anxiously, coaxing the jacket onto Persephone's shaking shoulders.

"He was just knocked unconscious," she said. Now that her ordeal was over, her body trembled violently. Lara put her arm around her, trying to ward off the chill that comes after shock. Persephone began to cry and Lara embraced her, comforting her as best she could. Under normal circumstances, the Frenchman's wife was a confident and formidable woman, but the events of this evening had shaken her badly. She knew as well as Lara did what would have transpired if Spike had had more time.

"If you hadn't arrived when you did, he would have--he would have…" Persephone broke off, unable to continue because of the tears streaming down her face.

"I know, Persephone, _I know_." The tone of Lara's voice caused the older program to look intently into her eyes.

"You've been through it too, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have and you know who did it, don't you?" Lara responded, a lump rising in her throat.

"Yes. I am so sorry," Persephone said hoarsely. The two women continued to embrace, each giving the other strength by her presence and understanding.

"Forgive me for asking, but does Agent Jones know?"

"No and I won't tell him either."

"You should, you know--the truth will come out sooner or later."

"I know that. I will not tell him because once he finds out…" Lara cleared her throat. "I can't lose him, Persephone, I just can't."

Persephone put her hand on Lara's. "Agent Jones has a big heart and a lot of love to give. I don't think you are giving him enough credit. He will stand by you, trust me."

Lara wanted desperately to believe that Persephone was right. "I know you mean well, but I can't take that chance. What if you are wrong?"

Persephone was about to open her mouth to reply but the approach of footsteps caused both women to cease their conversation and look up sharply.

"It's only me," Jones said, dragging beside him the prone form of Spike by the scruff of his neck. "I did as you requested, Madame," he said, directly addressing Persephone. "He is unconscious, but alive." He released Spike from his grasp and he fell face-first onto the concrete.

"Good," Persephone responded. Anger and resolve straightened her spine and she looked directly at Jones and Lara.

"I would appreciate if you wouldn't mention this to anyone." When both of them agreed, she continued. "Both of you have gained powerful friends by your timely actions tonight. If either of you ever need something, do not hesitate to contact me. I speak for my husband as well. When he awakens, the only thing we will tell him is that he was robbed, but the thieves were caught. He must think that it was the _only_ thing that happened tonight, do you understand?"

"Yes," said Lara, looking at Jones until he nodded his agreement.

"Will you be kind enough to pass me my cell phone?" Persephone asked. Lara looked away, pretending not to see how badly her hand was trembling as she dialled.

"It is me. Bring the Virii Twins to the parking garage near Main and Stanfield. They are my husband's newest acquisitions," Persephone explained with a slight smile. "These men will learn the penalty of offering harm to either my husband or myself. The Twins are extremely vicious but eternally loyal. It is because of our intervention that they are even alive today. They will ensure that these two never hurt anyone again, you can be sure of that."

The squealing of tires heralded the arrival of the Twins.

"You should leave now; we are in good hands," Persephone said. Lara nodded and smiled as the Frenchman's wife kissed Jones once on both cheeks before doing the same to her.

"Thank you for everything and don't forget what I said," Persephone whispered.

lllll

"You're very quiet," Jones observed as he and Lara headed back to his car. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Without answering, Lara hugged Jones and tried to stifle the urge to cry.

"Lara, what's wrong? Are you upset about what happened back there? It's all over, you don't have to be afraid anymore." He wrapped his long arms around her when he felt her trembling against him.

"I know," she mumbled into his shirtfront. "It's just that something similar happened to me once, a long time ago. It just brought back some bad memories, that's all."

"Someone attacked you? When? And why didn't you told me before?" Jones demanded.

"I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Your reaction. I was afraid that you'd think I was deserved it for blindly trusting someone I had known on such short acquaintance."

"Deserved it?" Jones said. "Is that what you thought I would think? What happened? Were you….assaulted in some way, like Persephone was tonight?"

"Yes," Lara said, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Only it went farther than just taking my purse. Much further. Please, Jones, I don't want to talk about it anymore. Can we just drop it?"

Despite his anger and burning desire to learn what had happened in Lara's past, Jones grudgingly acquiesced to her request. He raised Lara's chin up so he could look into her face. "It doesn't matter to me what happened in the past, Lara, and I will never judge you. But will you tell me someday, when you are ready?"

Lara nodded and her arms wrapped around his waist as she kissed him. When they parted at her door, Lara did not ask Jones to come in. Her mind was too full with what had happened to Persephone to be good company to anyone, especially Jones. Lara was not sure how much of her and Persephone's conversation he had heard and she was afraid that he would bring it up and begin to ask questions that Lara would never answer willingly.

However, as soon as Jones had left, Lara wished him back again. The stillness of her apartment played on her already-shattered nerves and once the silence enveloped her, Lara realized that she had made a mistake in letting him go.

To pass the time until she could fall asleep, she wondered what retribution the albino twins of Persephone's acquaintance would perpetrate on her two assailants. Whatever it is, thought Lara savagely as she punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape, I hope it's painful.

lllll

Lara sat bolt upright in bed and hugged her knees to her chest. The nightmare had come out of nowhere, contaminating her mind and system once again until her scream had woken her up and enabled her to move. Her body enveloped in a cold sweat, Lara knew she could not stay in her apartment any longer. She threw on her coat, called a cab, and raced out into the night.

lllll

Lara stood at Celia's door and heard the sound of her friend's laughter. The deep sounds of a masculine voice replying froze Lara's hand as she was about to knock.

I can't disturb Celia and Brown, she realized as she let her hand fall to her side. I had completely forgotten that they had had a date tonight. They deserve to have some fun without my interference because I had a bad dream. Lara turned away, going toward the only sanctuary she had left.

lllll

Just after two in the morning, Jones' doorbell rang. He had been always something of a night owl, so being awake and answering the door at that hour was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Come on in," he said, suppressing his confusion as to why Lara would come to in at this hour dressed in her pyjamas. Lara stepped into his apartment and he closed the door behind her.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, "I'm sorry if I did, but I had no other place to go. I just couldn't stay in my apartment alone any more. Celia and Brown were at her place and I didn't want to bother them." The desperation in her voice tugged at his heart. He took her small hands in his and looked into her eyes.

"No, I was already awake; you didn't disturb me at all." He was naturally curious about her presence in his apartment but did not question her. She will tell me when she sees fit, he reasoned with himself.

He bade Lara to seat herself and returned shortly afterward with a halfway filled glass of brandy in one hand and a blanket in the other. Lara reached for the drink gladly while Jones wrapped the blanket around her snugly.

Lara whispered her thanks and took a deep swallow of the amber liquid. It burned as it went down her throat and she took another then another until the glass was drained. She clutched the covering more tightly around her in an attempt to get warm. Jones sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her body close to his.

Lara shivered. Jones realized that she was suffering from delayed shock from the aftermath of that evening's events. He took the empty glass from her hand and embraced her, his hands gently but firmly rubbing her back in an effort to get some warmth into her chilled body. When Lara asked for more brandy, Jones did not object, even though he knew that Lara was a very light drinker of alcohol at best. He watched silently as Lara proceeded to empty the second and third glass as quickly as the first.

"What happened to Persephone tonight really hit you hard, didn't it?" he asked softly as he held her trembling body in his arms, his cheek next to hers. He felt her nod her head and hug him tighter.

"It's OK, Lara. Let it all out; I'm not going anywhere." The shaking of her body lessened as the alcohol spread through her system. The combination of its effects with the warmth of Jones' body and the blanket quelled her fears of dark memories that come with dreams as the sleeper is helpless to either control or guide herself to deal with them.

"Thank you, Jones. Thank you for everything," Lara whispered, kissing him on the cheek. The alcohol she had consumed soothed and calmed her overwrought nerves and she sighed deeply as her body relaxed. Lara had never felt so safe and secure in her entire existence as she did at that moment.

"That's much better," Jones said, his voice gruff from suppressed affection. "Are you feeling better?"

"Uh-huh," Lara said sleepily. "I feel so safe here with you. While I'm in your arms, I think that nothing can ever hurt me."

"You _are_ safe, Lara, because anyone or anything that tries to hurt you in any way will have to get past me and that is not going to happen."

Lara did not answer him. The slackness in her body indicated that she had fallen asleep or was very close to it. Jones picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom, placing her reverently and gently under the blankets. When he was satisfied she was comfortable, he slowly drew the covers over her.

"No, don't leave me," Lara mumbled. "Stay here, I'm afraid," she begged. The look of utter despair on her face and in her eyes wrenched all of Jones' emotional processors and he knew he couldn't leave her while she felt so vulnerable.

"I won't leave you," Jones murmured, removing his jacket, shoes and tie while loosening his shirt and got into bed with her, drawing the blanket over them both. Snuggling against him, Lara fell asleep again, sighing deep in contentment as his arms encircled her, holding her small body protectively against his.

lllll

A little while later, Lara awoke out of her slumber because of Jones' steady snoring in her ear to find herself being held spoon-fashion; her backside was against his groin and his hand was gently cupping her breast.

Lara smiled slightly in the darkness when she could feel his penis stir then subside against her buttocks and openly wondered for the first time how long it had been since Jones had had his last sexual encounter. Even if it has been years, his body certainly has not forgotten how to hold a woman, she thought tenderly.

We've been dating for over a month and already we've ended up in bed together, she thought wryly. But what would it be like to go all the way, I wonder? To be made love to by the man who is holding me now?

It has only been such a short time since we have gotten to know one another, but becoming intimate with Jones has been something that I have been curious about. Our relationship will progress into intimacy soon and that is an idea that I have to give some thought to.

I will have to tell him about what happened to me all those years ago eventually, but only if he asks; I will not volunteer the information willingly, she thought. After that awful night, my brain effectively froze my body from feeling desire and that is why it has been so long since I was intimate with a man. Jones was the one who opened the door and awakened my long-slumbering sexuality. He has made me feel alive, beautiful and desirable. Because of him, I am ready to live again, to not feel afraid and freely open my heart to give love and have that love returned.

Lara sighed quietly. I hope Celia and Brown had a good time tonight; both of them deserve to be happy and they are perfect for each other. Celia will bring Brown out of his shell and under his influence, perhaps she will settle down a bit—she has such a _joi de vivre_ and enjoys herself thoroughly but if she has a fault, it is that she does not always think things through.

Jones mumbled in his sleep and his arm reached out to clasp her more closely. Lara snuggled against him and promptly fell asleep.


	10. Music of the Night

Chapter 10--Music of the Night

Disclaimer: We do not own the Matrix, it owns us.

Summary: Celia and Brown have their first date and it is a wonderfully romantic experience for both of them.

lllll

"That was wonderful!" Celia exclaimed, holding onto Brown's arm as they exited the theatre. The glorious compositions of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber's masterwork still filled in her head.

Brown smiled. "I'm glad you liked it," he said, allowing himself to partake in her enthusiasm. He glanced down at her smiling face and in the illumination reflected from the streetlights, her face was glowing. Brown thought the beauty in the statue of _Venus de Milo_ looked positively drab in comparison to the vision of loveliness that was at his side. Celia was dazzling in the crimson full-length gown that she had worn to the evening's performance of "The Phantom of the Opera."

Through his influence at the Agency, Brown had been able to procure first-class seating and they had a full and unobstructed view of the stage. It had been worth it, Brown thought, as he gazed down at Celia for throughout the entire performance, she was at the end of her seat, looking down on the drama that was unfolding on the stage below with her undivided attention. Throughout the performance, her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling with rapture. Looking at her, Brown had had no reason to analyze her coding to see if she was enjoying herself--it shone from her eyes for all to see.

And much to Agent Brown's pleasant surprise, he too had found himself totally swept away by the rapturous yet tragic love story of the ill-fated Phantom and his beloved songbird, Christine Daae. He had read Gaston Leroux's novel, on which the play was based, while he was still a cadet at the academy. The written words of the French author had failed move him, stirring no feelings of sympathy for the disfigured title character. The book's heroine had made the right decision, the only logical choice, given her situation. But now after experiencing the sights and sounds of the fictional events come to life in such splendiferous fashion, Brown had allowed himself to be ensnared by the magic of the "music of the night."

Sitting next to Celia, Brown felt transported into her secret world, a world filled with music, romance and forbidden passion. And by sharing her love for this harmonious epic with him, the evening had become more significant and meaningful for the both of them.

lllll

In preparation for the evening, Brown had abandoned his standard Agency-issue apparel in favour of an Armani suit; elegant in cut and design as only an Italian designer could make it. The suit was navy blue and the shirt was a shade or two lighter in tone and combined with the silk tie, complimented the agent's grey/blue eyes.

All in all, Celia and Brown were a very handsome couple. Mingling with the other patrons, Brown took her hand and led her outside.

"What would you like to do now?" he asked.

"I don't know," Celia answered. The past three hours had been sublime and she did not want to end their date just yet. Adrenaline was coursing through her and she knew it would be a long time before she would be able to even think of sleeping. She was full of pure high spirits and she wanted nothing more than to dance the night away in Brown's embrace. If he had been even programmed to dance, that is. As a program in the Matrix, Celia knew about some of the abilities that their agents had been given but she wasn't sure if dancing was one of them.

"I know you've got something on your mind," Brown said teasingly. "Tell me what it is."

"Well, I would like…"

"Yes?" he prompted, tipping her face up so he could look into his eyes.

"Dancing. I would really like to go somewhere with you but…I mean, can you--?"

Instead of replying, Brown took Celia's hand and held it in his own while the other went around her waist. He waltzed easily and skilfully with her and Celia felt she was in the very capable hands of a true master of the art.

"Does this answer your question?" he said with a smile as he continued to hold her in his arms. Enthralled and charmed, Celia looked into Brown's face and they stopped dancing. More than he ever thought possible, Brown wanted to kiss the perfectly shaped crimson lips that beckoned silently to him. After a long moment, Brown made up his mind and lowered his head until his mouth was a few millimetres from Celia,

"If you want to stop me," he breathed, "you'd better say so now."

"No," Celia said, "I don't want you to stop; I want you to kiss me." Celia was not aware of it, but her eyes shone with expectation and desire. She gave out a small moan and the sound of her longing reverberated through her companion.

Ignoring the stares of the people around them, Celia and Brown kissed one another tentatively at first, then with increasing ardour. A few of the female onlookers sighed as they recollected the passion of their own youth when they too had felt the excitement of first love.

"Now, where would you like to go?" Brown asked. Celia gave it some thought—after watching a play about love and subtle erotic undertones, gyrating wildly across a crowded dance floor from Brown was not what she had in mind. She wanted to feel his strong arms around her as they danced cheek to cheek and having no one between them to interfere with the magic spell that the play had bestowed on them both.

"Take me to the Rainbow Room," Celia requested quietly.

With a faint smile, the dashing young agent slipped his arm around his companion's slim waist. Brushing his warm soft lips on the concave of her neck, he whispered softly, "Ah, _Christine,_ a night of dancing with your Phantom? Very well, then dancing it shall be."

Celia giggled at being called by the name of play's lead female character. She sighed at the thought of seeing half of Brown's gorgeous face obscured by a white porcelain mask. Picturing him all decked out in a long, flowing black cape turned her on immensely.

As one of her well-defined eyebrows shot up, her plump, pouting mouth formed a sly, knowing smile. "Lead the way, _Erik_."

Agent Brown planted a light, gentle kiss on the very tip of her nose then wordlessly guided Celia away from the Mega City Theatre for the Performing Arts to hail a cab.

lllll

When they arrived at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, the doorman quickly rushed to their taxi and flung open the car door. After paying the cabbie for their fare, Brown was the first to get out. Then with a graceful flair, he extended is his hand to the bewitching creature still seated inside the warm interior of the yellow taxi.

Gladly, Celia took the hand being offered to her and then allowed herself to be ushered into the city's most opulent and spacious supper club.

Celia drew a breath in awe as she and Brown swept through the oak doors of the ballroom. The carpeting around the perimeter of the dance floor was a midnight blue. The dancing area itself was hardwood and polished so minutely that it looked as smooth as glass. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and for a moment, Celia thought it resembled the one on stage that was supposed to hang in the Paris Opera House

Almost immediately, her senses were soothed by the dulcet tones of the soft music being played in the foreground as Celia and Brown were shown to their table near the dance floor. From their vantage point, they had an overall view of the entire dining establishment.

Men in formal wear were accompanied by handsomely dressed women and it seemed that diamond jewellery was the favoured choice of adornment as the costly gems sparkled from almost every woman's wrist, neck and breast and some even wore tiaras.

Celia looked down at herself. I don't have anything that comes even close to what these other women are wearing, she thought, and all the happiness and exuberance at finally being in this famous dance club evaporated. Even my dress is sub-standard; most of the gowns here tonight were worn by women who were probably on a first-name basis with the designer. Even though my dress is good quality, it still screams "I Got This Dress Off The Rack In the Clearance Section At Macy's" to anyone with even the slightest knowledge of what passes for _haute couture_.

My dress was good enough for the Mega City playhouse, but here in the highest of the high with regard to big-name dance halls, it looks downright shabby. Well at least the lights are dimmed somewhat and no one can see what a social-climbing _schlemiel_ I am. Call Mega City what you want, but at least I knew a few people there. Here I don't, although Brown seems to have an acquaintance or two but that shouldn't be surprising: he is an agent of the Matrix and is probably used to hob-knobbing with the rich and famous. As Celia's eyes scanned the other guests, she saw quite a few celebrities; several of whom she had waited in line to see their movies.

Now I know I really don't belong in this place, she thought, since I am the only one here whose face has never been on the cover of _People_, _Newsweek_ or even _The National Enquirer, _slugging it out with the paparazzi or mugging for the cameras.

Brown turned and looked at her strangely and it was then that Celia realized she had spoken aloud. Mortified, she bent her head so that Brown could not see her embarrassed and mortified flush.

As if he had read her mind, Brown murmured into her ear, "I love the way you look tonight, you are ravishing."

Grateful for his timely compliment, Celia flashed him a smile so brilliant, it rivalled the glitz and glamour of any of the starlets in attendance that evening.

Feeling better, Celia allowed her eyes to roam about the ballroom. She could see that room was very spacious, but dimly lit overhead. But the illumination from the candles on each of the tables was reflected in the giant mirrored ball hanging down from the center of the ceiling just above the dance floor; casting an almost hazy, dreamlike aura over the Rainbow Room.

Celia's dark eyes fell upon the dozen or so couples already swaying to the music from the live orchestra; she couldn't help but sigh from the romance of it all.

"May I have this dance, _Christine_?" asked Brown from across the table, still very much in "Phantom" character.

Celia, picking up her cue, feigned indignant surprise. "Why, _Erik,_ what would _Raoul _say?"

With a devilish grin and wicked glint his grey/blue eyes that made Celia go weak at the knees he replied, "I don't really much care what that foppish imbecile has to say when it comes to you," he said, referring to the Phantom's rival for Christine's affections.

Then the handsome young agent drew near to his quarry in predatory fashion, causing Celia's pulse to race with anticipation. He stared deeply into her eyes as he leisurely ran the tip of a long finger across the ample cleavage spilling out of the top of her gown.

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Don't forget, Celia," calling her by her rightful name. "You belong to me," he quoted. Then before his companion had an opportunity to react, Brown gathered her up in his arms as he passionately took possession of her sumptuous mouth with his own, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout Celia's entire system.

Groaning against the devouring moistness of Brown's lips, Celia felt her nipples harden as her lover held her tightly against him. Slowly the lingering kiss ended and neither one of them wanted to let go of the other. But knowing that his Celia wanted to dance, it wasn't long before Agent Brown gallantly guided his lady towards the dance floor.

lllll

Dancing cheek to cheek with Brown was heavenly as Celia followed his lead. He was a graceful dancer indeed and she felt as if she were floating on a cloud as they glided across the hardwood floor in time with the music. She smiled slightly when she caught a quick glance at their reflection in the mirrored wall.

God, we look like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, she mused to herself.

Just then, the band began to play an instrumental rendition of the "Music of the Night" the Phantom of Opera's showstopper. She then felt Brown twirl her around before crushing her body back to his in a bold but elegant move. Her head was swimming as she swooned, reliving the play they had just seen. Celia didn't want this night to end, ever.

But just when she thought the evening could not be more perfect, to her delight and astonishment, Agent Brown began to softly sing the lyrics to the Broadway tune, in a rich baritone.

_I have brought you  
to the seat of sweet  
music's throne . . .  
to this kingdom  
where all must pay  
homage to music . . .  
music . . .  
_

_You have come here,  
for one purpose,  
and one alone . . .  
_

Celia slowly closed her eyes, as Brown's voice whisked her away, taking her back to the catacombs beneath the Opera Populaire. In her mind's eye, she now inhabited the role Christine Daae as Brown magically transformed into her Phantom.

_Night-time sharpens,  
heightens each sensation . . .  
_

_Darkness stirs and  
wakes imagination . . .  
_

_Silently the senses  
abandon their defences . . .  
Slowly, gently night unfurls _

_its splendour . . .  
_

_Grasp it, sense it -  
tremulous and tender . . .  
_

_Turn your face away  
from the garish light of day,  
turn your thoughts away  
from cold, unfeeling light -  
and listen to  
the music of the night . . .  
_

Celia's heart palpitated with excitement, abandoning all coherent thought; she was lost in her fantasy.

_Softly, deftly,  
music shall surround you . . .  
_

_Feel it, hear it,  
closing in around you . . .  
_

_Let your soul take you where you  
long to be!  
_

_Only then  
can you belong to me . . ._

Amazed at her agent's obvious talent, "You have a beautiful voice, has anyone ever told you that, Brown?"

The youthful agent blushed a bit from embarrassment. He didn't mean to start serenading his date, but the romantic ambience of the evening got the best of him. Celia's intoxicating beauty was enough to make any man get carried away. He had quickly downloaded the entire score of the Phantom of the Opera into his files after he had obtained the tickets to the show. But he never thought that he would actually have opportunity to show Celia what he had learned.

"Thank you. I usually don't have an audience, since most of my performances are in the shower." he replied with a smile on his lips.

Celia closed her eyes and pulled the man she loved even closer to her,   
breathing in the essence of his manly scent. She smiled to herself as she pictured what Brown would look like stepping out of that same shower, thoroughly wet and more importantly, thoroughly nude.

Celia sighed contentedly, "Well, you can sing in my shower anytime you want to."

"How about tomorrow morning then? I will give you a command performance that you will never forget," Brown whispered huskily before kissing the outer shell of her ear.

"Well, I don't know about tomorrow morning, maybe after we've gotten to know each other a little better? I do have one request though: will you sing tunes from the "Phantom" for me?" Celia asked hopefully.

"For you, my love, I'll sing anything you want."

Celia smiled radiantly and Brown held her body closer to his. Now more than ever, he wanted to possess her, to make her his own and take her to the limits of ecstasy as they shared in the ultimate act of intimacy. But this was their first date after all and even though he wanted her very badly, Brown would not force himself on her—although he had the shrewd suspicion that the lust he was feeling was mutual and Celia wanted to be his as much has he wanted her.

Suppressing what was a sigh of disappointment, Brown laid his cheek against Celia's and was heartened when she leaned further against his body. Undoubtedly there would be a perfect time and place for them to discover each other fully, but it was not now. But someday soon, it would be. Besides, the longer the delay for the consummation of their relationship, the more anticipation would grow in both of them.

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Like all fairy tales, this one ended and it was just after 1:30 a.m. when Brown and Celia decided to call it a night. With their arms around each other's waists, they left the sumptuous ballroom; however, neither would forget the magical spell the evening had cast.

Both had consumed a fair quantity of champagne and although not technically drunk, Celia and Brown were not far from it either. Like Lara on her first date with Jones, Celia did not know quite what to do when it came to saying goodbye. Should I say goodbye here in the hallway of my apartment building or should we go upstairs to my place? Trying to clear her head from the effects of all the alcohol she had consumed, Celia pondered her options.

Oh, to hell with it, she thought. I don't want to take my leave from Brown just yet any more than he does. I want to stay with him for as long as decently possible. Brown looked relieved when Celia broached the idea of coming up to her place and Celia knew there would be no regrets.


	11. Deviant Eavesdropper

Deviant Eavesdropper

Disclaimer: We don't own the Matrix, we are merely its slaves.

Warning: This chapter contains explicit adult content. You have been warned.

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Jones could tell that Smith was extremely angry for he kept tapping his pen on the surface of his desk in a brisk staccato rhythm that was insistent, not to mention annoying.

"Why do you consistently remove your earpiece, Agent Jones?" Smith asked, his tone clipped and icy.

"I don't know. I guess it just falls out…" Jones began, trying to figure out a plausible explanation for its periodic absence but Smith would not let him continue.

"_Don't lie to me_! I know you make it a habit to take it out before you interact with Ms. Rodgers. How do I know? Because every time you meet her, my communication link to you is severed. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together, you know."

"So?" Jones asked tetchily.

"Agency policy clearly states that without exception an agent's earpiece must be worn at all times," Smith said, his eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"You are one to talk," Jones said angrily. "How many times haven't you removed _your _goddamn earpiece just before getting it on with whatever secretary-of-the-week catches your fancy?"

"Mind your tone, Agent Jones," Smith hissed warningly, "and mind it well. Do not forget to whom you are speaking."

"Oh, I know damn well to whom I am speaking," Jones said, coming closer to Smith who was still seated at his desk. In response to his colleague's attempt to intimidate him, Smith rose and came towards Jones until less than six inches of space was between their noses. He knew that Jones was using his superior size to subtly threaten him and until then, Smith had not realized how much larger Jones was in comparison to himself.

"I will remove my earpiece whenever I feel like it," Jones continued poking a forefinger sharply into Smith's chest, "and there is not a damn thing you can do to stop me. In fact," Jones said with a humourless smile, "I'd like to see you try, Agent Pencil-Neck. I outweigh you by at least forty pounds if not more, but unlike you, I get my exercise from weight training, not by fucking every woman in a skirt that I see." He stepped forward, going even closer to his boss and balled up his fists at his side. The sheer size of Jones and the level of rage in his face and eyes would have immediately put an ordinary man on the defensive; or at the very least, wary of antagonising him further but Smith was not intimidated in the slightest.

"Well, well, Jones," Smith said, "it would seem that you've discovered that you have a backbone. Two months ago, you never would have dreamed to address me in such an insolent tone of voice. I guess I have your slut of a girlfriend to thank for your abrupt change of attitude."

Jones grabbed Smith by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him hard against the wall with enough force that several nearby pictures fell to the floor. "Don't you ever call her that again, EVER!" he yelled.

"You lay a hand on me again, Jones, and I will not only have her deleted, but I will give _you_ the order to kill her, as I watch. Imagine--having to listen to her pathetic pleas for her life with the muzzle of your gun between those lovely hazel eyes of hers as you pull the trigger," Smith said. He smiled as Jones' face stiffened into a frozen mask of horror.

"You can't do that," Jones whispered hoarsely. "Only the Architect can order…"

"You are forgetting, Jones, that the Architect is very pleased with my performance of getting information on the rebels. In return, I have _carte blanche_ do whatever I please when it comes to dealing with other programs in either this building. If I tell him that Ms. Lara Rodgers needs to be terminated, I do not even have to give him a reason—he trusts my judgement implicitly and will sign the order for her deletion without a second thought."

"Are you doing this to punish me?"

"Punish is such a harsh word, Jones. No, I prefer to call it _keeping you in line_. In case you do not understand me, let me put it this way: you will continue to obey my every order _and _you will perform each and every task or chore I assign to you without hesitation or question. Is that clear? Now, let go of me. You are wrinkling my suit."

"All right, you win," Jones said sullenly, immediately backing off and releasing Smith from his grip.

"Yes, what?"

"All right, you win, _Sir_."

"That's better. Now get out of my office."

Jones turned on his heel, storming out of Smith's office in a rage. Sitting heavily on his chair in his cubby-hole of an office a short time later, Jones tried to digest everything that Smith had told him. If I don't kiss his ass every time he wants me to, he will kill Lara….no, he will have _me_ take her life, no doubt laughing all the while as I end the existence of the woman with whom I have wanted a relationship with for almost as long as I've known her.

The possibility of losing Lara was unimaginable to Jones and he held his head in his hands as he considered what to do. I need to see her right now. I must feel her close to me, for it is only in her arms that I feel complete. He checked his watch. Usually at this time of day is when her coffee break occurs and I should be able to catch her.

He ran out of his office and down several flights of stairs to the employee break-room. Disregarding the stares and grins of the other women whom Lara was with, Jones wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close to his heart.

"What's wrong?" Lara asked quietly when they were alone in the hallway.

"I just wanted to hold you. I know we've already talked about this and you preferred that we wait, but I really need to be with you, Lara. Please?" he asked softly. His heart skipped a beat when he looked into her eyes and saw that she had understood the unspoken meaning of his words.

"Okay," she whispered, stroking his face with a tender gesture. "How about tonight? Afterwards, will you tell me what's wrong?"

Something was bothering him so badly that he desired to take their relationship to the next level sooner rather than later, as they had discussed. The thought of finally becoming intimate with him frightened and excited her at the same time. That time in the park when he had touched her breasts made her nether region tingle every time she thought about it. To be able to feel his unclothed body next to hers, his hands touching every part of her, their bodies entwined as one was a desire that haunted her daydreams.

Jones nodded. "I'll come over later tonight and we can….talk about it," he said, as a flush spread over his face. Lara nodded, giving herself over to his passionate kiss.

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Remaining out of sight but within earshot, Smith considered everything he had heard. The idea of having an attractive and desirable woman waiting in her bed for Jones aroused and angered Smith to no small degree. He made a resolve that that would not happen if he could help it. If any man is going to have her tonight, it will be me, not Jones.

Later that afternoon, he deposited a substantial amount of work on his large subordinate's desk, taking great pleasure in watching Jones' face fall with disappointment.

"See that this is done and on my desk _before_ you leave, Jones," Smith said with a smirk. With a surly look, Jones grabbed the stack of papers from Smith's hand and went into his office to begin the multi-faceted report that Smith had given him. Jones began working at a feverish pace, determined to complete it before Lara would give up on his showing up at her apartment as promised. The thought of being with Lara was the only reason that kept Jones from throwing his hands up in defeat on more that one occasion that evening. Once I am done with this, I will be with her, he thought, firmly focusing his mind to remain on the task he had been assigned.

"Where are _you_ going?" Jones asked resentfully several hours later as he saw Smith locking his office for the night.

"I have to take care of some business that I have been neglecting for far too long," he said enigmatically. Tonight, my way is clear to be the first to sample those delights and charms that Ms. Lara Rodgers planned to bestow on you, my boorish underling. You could have had her any time during all those evenings where she would lie against you as the two of you watched television or just talked. You and Lara have spent hours just talking—and only talking—as I have found out because of the very active gossips that are employed by the Company.

I am sure, Jones, that even you would be amazed by the amount and relevance of information that can be obtained if one listens at keyholes or through the thin walls of this building. Agent Montgomery, the slippery little weasel that he is, has been doing a lot of eavesdropping on my behalf and I completely underestimated the quality and quantity of information that he has discovered about yourself and Ms. Rodgers.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been seeing one another for almost two months now, you have never tried to get past second base with her. You have yearned to feel her flesh against yours but never acted upon your desires—possibly for fear of harming Ms. Rodgers with your strength you might use during your tryst, or a more likely explanation is that you simply lack the balls.

The thought of Lara in her bed in her apartment at this time of night caused Smith's groin to tingle. Right now, she would probably be burrowed deep under the covers, her body warm, soft and vulnerable as she slept, subconsciously waiting and listening for Jones to join her; to have his body next to hers as they eagerly reached for one another….

No, Smith thought. That is _not_ how it shall be. She will welcome me in her bed, not Jones. I will have her tonight—then again and again until I tire of her. He slipped into the silent, dark apartment and working by smell alone, found himself in Lara's bedroom.

His long nostrils flared as he detected the scent of her. It is as I thought—she is asleep. Her body is warm and fragrant, inviting and desirable. She has bathed and perfumed herself in preparation for her coupling with that overgrown Neanderthal she fancies.

Smith growled deep in his throat as he came closer to her bed, step by step until he towered over her sleeping form. Curiously, he watched Lara as she continued to slumber, peacefully unaware of his presence. It was a revelation for Smith to watch a woman sleep, as he had made it a habit of ordering whichever floozy shared his bed by night to be gone by the time he arose the next morning.

Slowly, he raised the covers to get a better glance at Lara's body as well as perusing what she had chosen to wear to bed. Because agents could see as well in the dark as in the daytime, Smith saw that she had worn a black peignoir that hugged her curves and gave a tantalizing view of her body. Unable to stop himself, he slid his hands over her body and Lara moaned in her sleep and rolled onto her back to give him better access to touch her more thoroughly.

The feel of her warm flesh excited and aroused Smith completely. Lara moaned again when his hands cupped her breasts firmly, her nipples hardening completely when his hot, wet mouth suckled her through the fabric.

However, Smith was prevented in taking full advantage of her vulnerability when the phone beside the bed rang.

"Jones….Where are you? I was having the most delicious dream about you," she murmured sleepily as she stretched in bed. "You promised you'd come as soon--" She paused, listening to what was being said on the other end of the line. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "I'll see you when you get done, then."

Smith had silently exited her bedroom before the second ring but he lurked outside her bedroom door to hear Lara's end of the conversation. By the time she had hung up, he had already left her apartment and she never knew he had been there in the first place. Damn it, thought Smith, as he slammed his fist into the dashboard of his car in thwarted, full-blown sexual frustration. He sat in his car and waited. An hour later, he watched, annoyed and angry, as Jones swept past him, taking long purposeful strides to get to Lara as quickly as he could.

Yes, that's it, Smith thought to himself with a sneer, go ahead and fuck her brains out tonight. Little do you know that your passage inside of her will be easier as she is already aroused because of what I have done. No doubt Lara thinks that it was her dreams that made her wet between those luscious legs of hers as she parts them for you in preparation for you to enter her.

With a snarl of disappointment, Smith started his car when an idea, a truly diabolical idea came to his mind and he smiled at the sheer genius of it. He pulled out of the garage and hoped what he wanted to find would be close by.

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Jones sat on the end of Lara's bed and it wasn't long before he felt her small hands remove his jacket.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. Facing her, Jones hugged her tightly. Only with you, Lara, can I feel like a real man, he thought. He breathed in the scent of her freshly washed hair and skin and heaved a deep sigh. When I hold you like this, nothing else matters: not the bullshit at the office, not even Smith can come between us now.

The warmth of Lara's skin permeated Jones' consciousness and the desire to finally have her overrode all other thoughts.

"I want you," he said hoarsely and Lara trembled in his arms when his lips touched her ear. In her opinion, it was too soon for them to be intimate--however, when he had made this request earlier that day, Lara knew that something other than sex was on his mind. Jones knew how she felt about taking their relationship to the next level: it was something they had discussed once and for him to push the issue now only proved her suspicions were correct.

_Well, if you didn't want to have sex with him, you should've told him no the moment he came into the room_, a small voice in her head told her matter-of-factly. _Face the facts, girl, you want him as much as he wants you; otherwise, you shouldn't have purchased that lacy nightie you are wearing at this moment. You know agents can see perfectly well in the dark—he knows exactly what you have on and that he wants to tear it off your body as soon as possible. Remember, he is an agent and if he isn't careful, he could seriously hurt you, maybe even permanently…_

Lara had had enough sexual experience in the past to know that sometimes even the gentlest of men could be inadvertently rough in the final stage before their orgasm was imminent. And if he can punch through concrete, what is he capable of doing to me in the heat of the moment?

"Jones, before we go any further, there is something I must ask of you." When she was certain she had his complete attention, she continued. "I know that as an agent, you have strength that I cannot even begin to imagine the limits of. What I am asking is this: since this is our first time together, please, _please_, will you be careful with me?"

Jones took her face between his hands. "Lara, you have my word both as a man and as an agent of the System, that I will never harm you."

Relieved, Lara relaxed, resting her head on the broad expanse of his chest. She was glad that the room was pitch black and that she couldn't see his face for there was something else on her mind that was embarrassing, but necessary in that she had no choice but to bring up.

"One more thing. What about…..protection?" Lara blushed to an even deeper shade of red.

"I took care of it before I arrived," Jones said quietly. "I would never do anything to put you in danger, Lara."

It has been several years since I last had sex with a woman, he thought. For a moment, he wondered when was the last time Lara had had sexual relations with anyone but dismissed the subject. If she wants me to know then she will tell me, he reasoned, and until she brings it up herself, it is none of my business.

"I have wanted to do this with you for so long," he said, his thumb stroking the soft contours of her jaw, "having a relationship with you. Getting to know you, talking with you, that kind of thing."

"Really?" she asked wide-eyed with surprise. "Then why did you wait…?"

"…so long to ask you out? I don't know. I guess I was afraid that you wouldn't want to or would be repulsed by the idea. But none of that matters now. What is important is that we are together, here and now."

And we are about to make love with each other for the first time, Lara thought, swallowing nervously. Despite Jones' promise that he would not harm her, Lara was afraid nonetheless. She took his hand and placed it over her breast. Jones took the hint and stroked it gently and captured the nipple between his fingers feeling it harden completely. Lara made a mewling sound when she felt both of his hands caressing and stroking her breasts.

His head dipped and Lara had to stifle a loud groan when his mouth enveloped first one nipple then the other, teasing and suckling her until Lara felt liquid heat beginning to pool between her legs. She ran her fingers through his hair, telling him without words that she definitely loved what he was doing to her.

The all-consuming need to feel his skin against hers made Lara push him away for a moment. At first, Jones thought that she was changing her mind, but sighed in contentment when her fingers were quickly and nimbly removing his tie and its accompanying clasp before proceeding to undo the buttons on his shirt. Her fingernails raked through the hair on his chest when all the fasteners were unbuttoned. She pulled his shirt off and ran her palms over the taut hardness of his upper torso, delighting in the feel of the muscles beneath her hand.

Her breathing was quick and hard as the realization hit her that she would finally be making love to this almost-perfect specimen of manliness. Jones felt himself being pushed onto his back and curious to see what Lara had in mind, he put his hands underneath his head and waited.

He tried without success not to smile as he could see Lara blushing yet again in the dark as her quivering fingers moved to the belt of his pants. He was aware that his manhood was almost fully erect and he groaned when Lara's hand brushed against it. Swallowing hard, Lara set aside her misgivings, firmly and decidedly making quick work of freeing him from the constraints of his pants.

"I'll take it from here," he murmured, raising his hips off the mattress and removing his trousers and shorts. Laying naked full length beside her, Jones wrapped his arms around Lara and held her close to him.

"Will you tell me what happened at the office today?" Lara asked, her voice a concerned whisper. "What is wrong, Jones? Please tell me."

"I can't," Jones said, despair filling every circuit of his system. How can I tell you that Smith told me he will make me kill you if I don't grovel before him? "I can't lose you, Lara."

"You won't lose me, Jones," Lara said, stroking his face. "I'm not going anywhere. But if you can't tell me now, that's okay. When you can, I will listen."

"Someday I will, but not now." Definitely _not_ now, Jones thought. The warmth of her body in his arms roused him further and Lara clung to him when she felt the stubble of his face stimulate the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder. Every man likes to hear sounds of enjoyment from his partner and Jones was no different. He became aroused to an almost excruciating extent when he heard her moaning in his ear as she clutched at his shoulders in an effort to bring more of his body in contact with hers. Her nipples seemed to bore into his chest with their hardness and he savoured the sensation.

Chuckling quietly to himself at her rampant desire, Jones cupped her derriere in his large hands, kneading and stroking the firm flesh with lustful intentions of feeling more of her body with his hands.

"Please," she whispered, "touch me."

Jones knew that Lara was not referring to him primarily grabbing her ass, but she was begging him to touch her in the most intimate area of a woman's body. Her breath came in short, panting gasps and Lara whimpered when his fingers changed their position from her backside to the front of her body.

Without realizing she was doing it, Lara parted her legs a little and when Jones slipped his hand between them, he raised his eyebrows considerably when he felt the amount of wetness there. The near-complete absence of pubic hair coupled with the softness of the skin of her outer labia tantalized and excited him. Her thighs parted even more and because of the moisture now saturating his thumb and index fingers, Jones was able to part her outer folds easily. The heat of her most intimate and tender flesh seemed to scald his digits and he wanted more. Gliding along the entire length of Lara's slit, Jones found what he was looking for: the little button of her clitoris had been aroused until it was hard and erect and aching for his touch.

He groaned when Lara's knee had insinuated itself between his thighs and was gently but purposefully stroking his scrotum until his own flesh was hungering for more. He had to bite down on his lip and stifle a groan when her hand began touching his genitalia. Her fingers caressed his testicles, and then trailed up and around his entire length so she could satisfy her curiosity. Lara's eyes widened in the darkness as the size of his penis became clear due to her inquisitive hands. Even with the tips of her middle finger and thumb, she could not encircle the width of his engorged manhood.

_Oh my God, he's huge! _she thought. _I'm not large enough to accommodate him, am I_, Lara wondered apprehensively. _He said he wouldn't hurt me intentionally, but he is going to tear me apart even if he is gentle! _

Fearfully, Lara withdrew her hand and tried to pull away. Jones noticed the movement and hazarded an educated guess at the reason behind it.

"It's going to be all right, Lara. I know I am what some women might call well-endowed, but I won't hurt you."

"You say that you won't, but you will, I know it. Not on purpose and I know that. But…_I am still afraid!_"

"You are remembering what that other guy did to you, aren't you? The one you had the nightmare about when you came to my apartment in the middle of the night?"

"Yes," Lara said quietly. "He hurt me and ever since then, I've been afraid to be intimate with a man." Jones was very still, realizing that she was telling him what had happened to her and if he said or did anything that indicated how he felt, Lara would stop reciting the terrible event that still scarred her.

"What—what was he like?"

"He was someone I work--worked with. I thought I could trust him but I was mistaken."

"What was his name?" Jones asked quietly, stroking her hair.

Lara swallowed and shook her head. Deliberately, her hand reached out and touched his thigh. She felt Jones twitch at her touch and slowly and provocatively, she inched her hand higher. Her ruse worked as Jones completely forgot to insist that Lara give him the name of the man who had hurt her.

As both Jones and Lara became more aroused and excited, so did their listener. As Smith had expected, Jones had lost himself in the heat of passion, carelessly not removing his earpiece. As a result, Smith was able to feel and hear everything that was going on between the two first-time lovers. All the better to listen to you with, Smith thought, mentally re-arranging the lyrics of an old children's nursery rhyme to suit his purpose.

This is turning out to be a far more pleasurable evening than I had hoped, he thought, smugly watching the red-headed young woman he had picked up proceed to orally satisfy him from where she sat next to him in the backseat of his car.

When I left Lara's apartment, I had one hell of a hard-on and needed to get off as soon as possible. And that's when I decided to pick _you_ up, isn't it, you piece of jailbait, he silently addressed the girl. If I were any other adult male, I would have actively shunned your company as the consequences of your servicing me would have resulted in jail time.

However, I have nothing to fear because my success rate when it comes to obtaining valuable information vital to the continued survival of the Matrix is the biggest bargaining chip in my favour. As a result, I can always count on the Architect to smooth over any legal irregularities that might arise from my actions, whether it be killing vast numbers of rebels or simply getting a blowjob from an underage teenage girl in the backseat of my car.

He groaned from the very enjoyable sexual sensations he was receiving from her mouth and what he was feeling from listening to Jones and Lara. Leaning farther back into the leather upholstery, he closed his eyes and savoured the sensation of a hot, wet mouth enveloping his manhood, aware that the level of lust and passion inside Lara's bedroom was escalating rapidly.

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Lara was writhing as her lover's fingers continued to stimulate her swollen clitoris. She was close to achieving her orgasm and the subsequent lust she was feeling caused her to kiss Jones passionately; her own hands stroking and caressing his manhood until he too, was engorged with desire.

Abruptly he stopped his ministrations and Lara whimpered with disappointment when his lips moved away from hers. However, the moment they latched onto her nipple, Lara moaned loudly. When he was satisfied that she had had enough, he trailed his mouth down towards her flat belly, blazing a trail of molten heat as he went.

_Oh, God_, she thought, _he isn't going to do what I think he is, is he?_ She gasped, arching her back when his lips touched her and she instinctively twisted her fingers in his hair to keep his head firmly between her legs.

It was all Jones could do to keep his grip on her; Lara's body was writhing and squirming and he winced in momentary pain when one long fingernail scratched him behind his ear. He sucked her clitoris, one moment nibbling it with his lips while the next, his tongue slashed backwards and forwards across it all the while, slurping up her juices as they smeared across his face.

Lara's moans were long and loud now; her grip in his hair tightened and even Jones, who had relatively little experience with women over the last few years, could tell that her orgasm was seconds away.

Yes, _that's it, Jones, get your face right down into that sweet spot of hers_ said Smith, his voice emanating from Jones' earpiece.

What the hell? Fuck, I forgot to take out my earpiece, Jones thought angrily. Smith has been listening to everything that has been going on between Lara and me! When his fingers reached up to remove it, he heard the cold voice of his superior deep in his ear.

_Don't even think about taking it out, Jones. For if you do….have you already forgotten what I told you?_

That bastard has beenlistening to us this whole time, Jones thought angrily.

_I know you can't answer me right now, so I will continue._ _You should know that I have been thoroughly enjoying listening to this auditory peep show that you and Ms. Rodgers have considerately been giving me. It's almost as if I were in the same room with you both. It has been most arousing, I must say_, _as the young lady who is giving me head can attest to_. _But since her mouth is most deliciously engaged at the moment, you will have to take my word for it._

You son of a bitch, Jones thought, bristling with rage as he listened to Smith's voice in his ear. _Why are you doing this to me?_

_I've worked with you for so long, I think I can tell what is going through that pea-brain mind of yours. I am doing it for the simple reason that I can, Jones_.

Even from his location in his car, Smith felt and knew that Jones was going to stop his thus far very passionate lovemaking session with Ms. Rodgers and that was definitely _not_ on Smith's agenda.

_You are going to stop what you are doing to your lady-love _now_, just when she is about to come,_ _leaving her alone and frustrated? From what I can hear, she is so close to her orgasm, she can almost taste it. Why deprive her of every woman's deepest desire to be eaten out by the man she likes just to spite me? Shame on you, Jones_. _I don't think Ms. Rodgers would approve of your intention, even if she knew I was here._

Jones heard Smith groan suddenly in unadulterated lust and thought his boss had had his orgasm from the guttural sounds he was hearing from the other end of the line.

_I am still here, Jones, and I am going to come at any moment. Very much like that whore you are with. But before I sign off, here is a parting word of wisdom you might be advised to take: don't forget to use those condoms you bought from the drugstore; you may have been celibate, but Ms. Rodgers has not. Besides, you don't know where that cunt of hers has been_.

The tone in Smith's voice made Jones frown. If he didn't know better, it was as if Smith knew the identity of the last man Lara had been with. Jones lifted his head from between Lara's legs and tried to ignore the groan of exasperation from her as he did so.

"I am so sorry, Lara, but I can't do this. Forgive me."

"_What!_" she replied, hardly believing her ears.

"I can't do this," Jones repeated. Please don't ask me to tell you why, but it's for the best. The idea of Smith salivating in the back seat of his car, listening in on our most private and intimate moment, waiting for us to make love and give him a cheap thrill is something I will not let happen, no matter how much you want me to.

"Please don't hate me," Jones said, anguish flooding through him at the thought of leaving her like this.

"Why do you have to leave?" Lara said plaintively. "Is it something I did? Or maybe didn't do? You can't just go and not give me some explanation!" she said angrily, sitting up in bed and hearing him locate his clothing in the dark.

_Of course, that's it!_ her mind informed her. _He's been doing all the giving and all you've done is take, take, take! Give him something in return and he'll stay! Do it now before it's too late!_

Quick as a wink, Lara dashed out of bed and without any warning, Jones gasped in surprise as he felt her mouth envelop his penis. During his and Smith's communication with one another, he had felt his erection disappear but when Lara's tongue swirled around its tip, his desire for her returned several times over. Of their own accord, his hands twined themselves in her hair and he groaned deeply as she proceeded to take him further and further into her oral cavity.

Now it was his turn to be aroused to an intoxicating degree by the ministrations of Lara's hands and mouth. The only thing that prevented Jones from succumbing to this enjoyable sensation was the knowledge that Smith was listening.

"No, Lara," Jones said, trying to quell the tempting thought of just allowing himself to forget everything and let the desire inside of him take over. However, Lara had had confirmation that he did not want her to stop: every woman knows simply by the changes in her partner's touch, that their sexual arousal is nearly out of control. Therefore, Lara did not stop in orally pleasing her lover, she continued her actions with renewed gusto and enthusiasm.

_ Let yourself enjoy this, _Smith'svoice crooned deep in Jones' earpiece._ We are both going to experience our orgasms at the same time, spewing our ejaculate deep into the mouths that are enveloped around our dicks. As you are aware, you can feel my pleasure. Normally you would not be able to do so, so consider this my gift to you. _

Smith's breathing was harsh and rapid, his pulse pounding through his simulated veins. The notion that despite his misgivings, Jones was enjoying Lara's ministrations to such a degree that he too was going to climax only added to Smith's pleasure. He thrust himself as far as he could go inside the mouth of the teenage prostitute as his climax occurred, grunting and groaning like a boar in heat.

Jones' body twitched and his eyes rolled back in his head as he felt himself experience Smith's powerful orgasm. He heard Smith cry out in pleasure and the temptation to let go of his iron grip on his own orgasm nearly proved to be Jones' undoing. But Jones knew that if he succumbed now, Smith would be triumphant and knowing his boss as he did, Jones was sure that he would never let him forget it. Either by thought or by word, Smith would see to it that Jones would be reminded one way or another, forced to bear and keep the burden of shame deep within himself.

The thought of Smith giving Lara sly and provocative looks about the secret he and Jones shared between them strengthened Jones' resolve.

"No, Lara!" Jones said harshly, pushing Lara away from his groin, taking her by the forearms and jerking her upright to her feet. "I said I won't let you do this!" By this time, he was shaking her roughly and Lara thought her head would detach from her spine from the force he was using to shake some sense into her.

"Why not? Don't you want me?"

Jones sighed heavily. "It's not that I don't….I can't. I am a program and an agent but I have the body of a man—the desires and needs of a man, do you understand? If you do not let me leave now, I will not be able to go at all! Do you understand what that could mean for you?" He felt the vibration in her body as she shook her head.

"If I don't leave now, I will throw you on the bed and take you whether you want me to or not." Taking her hand roughly, he forced it down and placed it on his rampant erection. "Do you want that—inside of you, with no gentleness or tenderness?"

"No," she sobbed in fear, as she comprehended the meaning of his words. Against her will, Lara had an image of being taken thus and it aroused and frightened her. To see him this way was a revelation. The Jones she thought she knew—calm, impassive, expressionless—had been transformed into a very aroused, full-blooded male who wanted her as badly as she did him. And he had not exaggerated his point that he could and would have her if she continued to push him past his limit of endurance.

A part of her wanted nothing more than to be taken by Jones: a man about whom she had fantasized having intimate relations with for a long time. However, Lara knew all too well what it was like to be forced to submit to a man's lust and desires and she shrank from him in fear.

Jones felt he had to say something; I can't just leave her like this and fumbled for a plausible explanation.

"I—I just found out that some rebels have been spotted and I have been ordered to intercept them before their target can be unplugged. I have to go, Lara. I'm sorry."

"Fine. Do your duty then, if it's so important to you," Lara said bitterly.

Lara jerked away from Jones' touch and said nothing further as he dressed and left her bedroom. Feeling suddenly cold, she dove into her bed and burrowed under the covers as if she would never feel warm again. Jones may be a lot of things, but he is not a good liar, Lara thought. He just made that up for my benefit, I know it. But why?

An overwhelming sense of rejection made tears come to Lara's eyes. My nerves are too frazzled and jangled right now for me to fall asleep, she thought, reaching in her nightstand drawer for the bottle of pills that always gave her the peace and quietness she needed from time to time.

But there was one thing that she felt must be done before she could get any rest. Even though it was very early in the morning, Lara knew that the main bank of phone lines was always manned. I can't face Jones at work tomorrow after what just happened. She dialled the central phone line and for the first time in her existence, called in sick.


	12. A Concerned Employer

I am Just a Concerned Employer

Disclaimer: We do not own the Matrix.

Warning: Contains explicit adult material of a sexual nature—one act is consensual and one is not. You have been warned.

lllll

Celia paused on the subway platform, craning her neck to see any sign of Lara but to no avail. Where could she be, Celia wondered. Just as the subway car was about to pull away, Celia dashed inside as the doors were closing.

Finding a seat, she sat down dejectedly. Normally, both women would be noisy and talkative while on the ride to work; what had happened between herself and Brown the night before was bursting to come out and Lara was the only one with whom Celia wanted to share the experience. It felt strange to Celia not to have her friend alongside her. Without a companion on the long ride to work, Celia sat quietly in her seat, staring out of the dirty window.

When the ride was over and as she prepared to leave, Celia brightened when a thought came to her. Maybe she went in early, she mused. I'll see her at her desk in a few minutes and will she be surprised at what I'm going to tell her! Elbowing her way firmly through the throng of people, Celia hastened to her workstation only to find Lara's seat was empty and her desk was exactly as she had left it the night before.

Celia sat down at her desk. She turned on her computer, accessed the Company's employee records, and opened Lara's dossier. Yup, I knew it, Celia thought, scanning the text before her. Lara has never missed a day of work ever since she started here. Opening yet another directory that required a minimum level 2 security clearance, Celia found what she was looking for: a note that Lara had called at 1:15 a.m. and would not be at work. Hearing the other women in the secretarial pool enter the office, Celia closed the file and prepared to look like she was getting work done, but her mind was nowhere near the list of assignments she needed to have completed by the end of the day.

Break time came and went and Celia was beginning to get nervous. Why did Lara call in sick, she wondered. Even though Celia knew that Lara would not be coming in that day, every time she heard footsteps her head jerked up, her eyes instantly zeroing in on the doorway hoping to see her friend before she realized it was useless. Lara was not coming and that's all there was to it.

Celia could not be absolutely certain, but twice she thought she caught a glimpse of Jones hovering outside the doorway but whenever Celia looked up again to be sure, he had gone. She looked at the clock and sighed. It was lunchtime and Celia, normally a voracious eater, had no appetite. While all the other women in the secretarial pool left for lunch, Celia made no movement to get out of her seat.

"After what happened between us last night, do you still respect me in the morning?" Agent Brown's voice said softly as he leaned over her, nibbling on her ear. Celia groaned with pleasure and closed her eyes in response. Images of their date from the night before flashed before her eyes and Celia could feel her nipples harden and her groin tingle.

"Never," she murmured, as Brown trailed kisses down her jaw and neck. He chuckled deep in his throat as he fingered a small bruise on her neck.

"You've got one hell of a hickey on your neck, Ms. Alvarez. Wherever did you get it?" Brown asked, his voice sultry and teasing.

"An overly amorous agent who doesn't know his own strength," Celia responded in kind. She turned her head and eagerly kissed him, excitement flooding through her system. She felt Brown respond as his hands encircled her body. The feel of his lips on hers made her pulse rate jump and unless Celia was gravely mistaken, he was enjoying it as much as she was.

"It's a shame that there is only one mark on your neck," Brown said, a truly wicked grin encompassing his youthful face. "I think I should give you a matching set."

As Brown leaned forward even closer with every intention of leaving a second love bite on her neck, Celia held him off. "I'm worried about Lara. She didn't show up for work today. She called in sick."

"I'm sure she's all right," Brown said. He could see how worried Celia was and gently stroked her face.

"But she's never done that before! What if there is something really wrong with her? What about Jones? Would he know? I thought I saw him peering in here as though he were looking for her."

Brown frowned. "Are you sure? I haven't seen him at all today. He's been in his office and the door is locked. Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Let's go out for a little bit and not worry about Lara and Jones for once. Let's just concentrate on us."

Celia smiled and nodded and put her arm around his waist. Brown smiled and tightened his grip on Celia as she leaned into him, seeking comfort and reassurance from his presence.

lllll

It was just after one p.m. when Celia's phone rang and she answered it and was flabbergasted to hear Lara's voice.

"It's me. Are you alone?"

"Lara! My God, where are you? Why did you call in sick today?"

"I'm fine. Listen, I would like you to do something for me, will you? Jones will probably contact you at some point today wondering where I am. I want you to promise me that you won't talk to him or answer any emails from him."

"Did something happen between the two of you?" Celia frowned when she heard Lara's voice tremble as if she were going to cry.

"You might say that. Just promise me, please? Come to my place after work and I'll tell you everything."

"You got it. If he sends me anything, I'll delete it immediately."

"One more thing—could you use your security clearance to find out if there was any rebel activity near my place last night?"

"I'll dig up what I can," Celia said, her brow furrowing in confusion at her friend's request.

When Lara hung up, Celia turned back to her work. I only hope I can manage to evade Jones if I do see him. I have to try to stay out of his way so he can't corner me. For if he did, all he would have to do to get me to tell him what he wants to know is to scowl or glower at me in that intimidating way he has and I'd spill the beans for sure.

lllll

During the afternoon, both Smith and Jones looked for Lara at her cubicle. After making his way to the secretarial pool for the fourth time that day in hopes of seeing her, Jones went back to his office disappointed and confused.

Why isn't she here, he wondered as he sat behind his desk, periodically taking a drink from the now almost-empty bottle of alcohol from his bottom drawer. She has never missed a day of work before. Is she all right? I knew I shouldn't have left her the way I did, but what else could I have done? Tell Lara that Smith was listening to us as we almost became intimate? No. Her absence has something to do with what happened between us last night I just know it does, Jones thought.

He stood up and swayed unsteadily on his feet until he regained his sense of balance. I have to find out how she is, he thought and opened his office door. Jones growled in annoyance when he saw Smith stroll leisurely down the hallway and enter his opulent office. You didn't get what you wanted last night, did you, you son of a bitch, Jones thought, glowering at his boss who was flirting with yet another female conquest from the secretarial pool. If you so much as raise one of those highly arched eyebrows of yours at me, I will gladly rip you apart and to hell with the consequences. However, the fact that you would order Lara's deletion just to punish me is the only thing that prevents me from killing you where you stand and making you suffer the way you truly deserve.

You may have a lot of material things Smith, Jones thought, but I have something none of your money can buy: the trust and support of Lara's closest friend. Hastily, Jones lurched back to his desk, typed a message on his new keyboard and hesitated before reading it over.

_Ms. Alvarez,_

_Would you consider meeting me in the north wing stairwell as soon as you can? I am worried about Lara and I need to talk to you._

_Agent Jones _

I simply cannot wait until after hours to see how Lara is. I have to know _now, _Jones thought, firmly pressing the "send" button and transmitting his note to the inbox of Lara's friend.

lllll

Celia groaned nervously when she saw the "You Have Mail" message bleep on her computer screen. She had a pretty good idea who sent it and remembering her promise to Lara, deleted the email before the temptation to read what Agent Jones wrote overcame her. She had seen him pass by the doorway several times and each time he stopped and peered inside for a moment to see if Lara had arrived. Celia ducked down as far as she could to avoid being spotted by the large agent and breathed easier when he continued on his way.

When an hour had passed and Celia did not show up for their meeting, Jones knew that he had to take matters into his own hands. Less than five minutes later, he went into the underground garage. Manfully resisting the urge to scratch the door of Smith's personal car with his key, Jones took one of the nondescript company vehicles that were always available for the agents' use and the smell of the burnt rubber from squealing tires lingered in the garage long after he had gone.

Jones knocked on Lara's door. In his anxiety, he nearly put his hand through it as he continued to knock. Hearing no movement or response within, he used the key Lara had given him and entered her apartment.

"Lara? Are you here?" he called out. When there was no response, Jones reached for his sidearm and inspected every room carefully for her, saving the bedroom for last. He pushed the door open and found Lara safe and sound and asleep on top of the covers of her bed. Sighing with relief, he holstered his Desert Eagle revolver and sat beside her, wondering what to do.

She is obviously all right, he reasoned with himself as he watched her continue to sleep peacefully, I have been worrying myself for nothing. Bending down, he kissed her on the cheek before pulling a blanket over her sleeping form.

"I am so sorry for last night," he said softly, brushing away some hair that had fallen onto her face. "I would never do anything to hurt you and I hope you know that, but I had to leave. I had no choice." As quietly as he came, he left.

Not long afterward, Lara's eyes flickered open and when she sleepily glanced at the clock beside her bed before remembering the late-night phone call she had made to the office. Now all I have to do today is wait for Celia to come by and see what she says, Lara thought.

lllll

So far so good, Celia thought, picking up her purse and preparing to leave when the clock indicated it was quitting time. She leaned over to turn off her computer and when she straightened up, she gasped sharply as the bulky frame of Agent Jones stood directly in front of her.

"Oh, Agent Jones, I didn't see you!" Celia squeaked, her insides liquefying into ice-cold fear.

"Have you heard from Lara today?" he asked, as he put his hand on her arm to stop her from leaving. It seemed like he hadn't shaved and his clothes were rumpled as if he had slept in them. His eyes were bloodshot and if Celia wasn't mistaken, he smelled as if he had been drinking. He was a far cry from his usual impeccably dressed self and when Celia looked into his face, she felt sorry that she had to lie to him.

"No, Agent Jones, I haven't," Celia said, hoping to fib convincingly enough so he would leave her alone.

"You're not telling me the truth," he stated. "What's going on, Celia? Why wasn't she at work today? Why didn't you meet me?" His grip tightened on her arm and Celia winced.

Jones stepped closer to her and Celia gulped nervously at what he would do but her promise to Lara sealed her lips.

"She told you not to tell me anything, didn't she?" Jones asked. Celia nodded.

"Could you let me pass by? I'd have to leave," Celia said as quietly and calmly as she could so she would not run the risk of getting him angry. "Please?"

"I'm sorry," Jones mumbled as he released her. "I am very worried about her, you know?"

"I know, Jones," Celia said, patting his arm. "She just needs some time to think." No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, Celia realized her mistake. As she expected, Jones had picked up on her slip of the tongue immediately.

"Then I was right, you _have_ spoken with her. She doesn't want to see me, does she?" he asked glumly.

Celia sighed and shook her head. "Look, I don't know what happened between you two, but things will work out, you'll see."

Jones nodded and walked away, his shoulders slumped and his body language displayed his supreme unhappiness. "Could you tell her that I'm sorry about last night? She'll understand what that means."

"I will, Jones," Celia said. Jones murmured his thanks and Celia watched him leave. Holy cow, Celia thought, he is built like a frigging brick shit-house! Maybe I am interested in the wrong agent, she mused, scrupulously eyeing the broad frame of the largest agent as he walked away. Nah, she thought, Brown is the man for me—tall, dark and handsome. And young.

lllll

At the appointed time, Celia entered Lara's apartment. "Well, I'm here as promised, and boy do I have things to tell you!"

"Did everything go okay today? Did anyone say anything to you about me?" Lara asked.

"I got an email from Jones asking to meet me but I stood him up. Smith skulked around but didn't ask me anything." I won't tell her what just happened with Jones; she has enough on her mind as it is, Celia thought.

"Well, that's good because—" Lara broke off her conversation with Celia in mid-sentence when she heard the ringing of her doorbell. Peering through the peephole, Lara was surprised to see Smith standing outside her door.

"It's Smith," Lara whispered. "You better get out of sight," she instructed and waited until Celia had closed the bathroom door behind her before opening the door. Taking no chances that her friend might still be seen by Smith, Lara took the precaution of putting her small form between her unwelcome visitor and the door to her apartment.

"What can I do for you, Agent Smith?" Lara asked apprehensively.

"You've never called in sick before, Ms. Rodgers. I am just a concerned employer who wanted to see how you were," Smith replied smoothly. When he put forth the effort, Smith could almost charm birds out of their trees. He had learned a long time ago that many women respond favourably to a handsome, soft-spoken man in an expensive suit and Lara was captivated and charmed in spite of herself. The expression she saw in his eyes as he stood in front of her was that of worried concern.

Smith had learned that it did not hurt having a fair amount of acting ability as well and realizing that Lara was beginning to succumb to his wiles, he took her hand and held it in his own, his thumb running across her knuckles in a sensual manner.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see that you are all right," Smith said, modulating his voice so that it sounded sincere. "This is the first time you and I have been alone in a long time, hasn't it, Lara? While I have the opportunity, I wanted to ask if it were possible for you to forgive me for what I did to you all those years ago?"

"No, I haven't forgiven you, how can you even ask me that?" Lara hissed angrily. "You threatened to hurt my mother if I told anyone what you did!"

"And you haven't mentioned it to anyone, have you? What about Jones?"

"I haven't said anything to him. How could I?" Lara asked, looking away and trying to blink back tears. Smith reached out and wiped away a tear that had slid down her cheek.

If I didn't know better, he almost appears to be worried about me, Lara thought, frowning slightly. She involuntarily flinched when she felt his touch but did not withdraw her hand. His skin actually feels warm, she marvelled, her eyes widening in surprise. I always thought that his flesh would be as icy as his demeanour, but it isn't. He feels….like a man.

_But no man should have hurt you the way he did, _Lara's mind told her.

Smith's hand was under her jaw, and he was gentle as he coaxed her face upward. "Is it too late for you to accept my apology?"

Lara could not believe her ears--in all the years she had worked with him, she had never, _ever_ known Smith to apologize for anything or to anyone. He was a law unto himself.

She stared into his eyes and lost herself in their depths. Before this moment, Lara had never realized just how blue his eyes were or how tall he was in comparison to herself as he towered over her. Lara continued to gaze up at him, noticing for the first time how wide and soft his mouth was; his lips were warm and inviting—much like the expression in his eyes. From a long ago memory, Lara closed her eyes and remembered what it had felt like to feel those lips on her own and the passion that had flooded through her at the time.

_Why are you gawking at him like that_, her mind demanded. _Have you forgotten he was the one who humiliated Jones?_ _Have you forgotten what he did to you? _Gasping sharply as if cold water had been thrown in her face, Lara shook her head to clear it of the spell that had held her staring, enthralled, into Smith's eyes.

Mustering as innocent a look as possible on her face, Lara asked guilelessly, "do you always make it a habit of visiting every Agency employee who calls in sick, Agent Smith?" She tried not to smirk when for a brief moment, she saw Smith looking very ill at ease. You son of a bitch, she thought to herself, her eyes narrowing in dislike as she looked at him. I can see right through you. If I had continued to be a Plain Jane in your eyes, you would not give a goddamn second thought to me but now that someone else is attracted to me, you are suddenly concerned about my welfare? Even I'm not stupid enough to fall for that.

All this time, Smith had edged closer to her and even though Lara felt her personal space comfort zone was being infringed upon, she did not give in to the temptation to step back or let him inside her apartment. Celia was still there and whatever she had to do, Lara would not let him pass. Instead, she folded her arms and jutted her chin at him defiantly. However, if he barged past her and through the doorway, there would be nothing she could do to stop him nor did she have any kind of contingency plan if he did.

"I know Ms. Alvarez is in there, because I followed her here."

"So? Leave her out of this. And just for the record--you can shove your so-called apology up your ass, Smith," Lara said.

Smith sneered and stepped back. "Do not make it a habit of calling in sick too often, Lara," he snapped as he turned to leave.

"Fuck you, asshole," Lara muttered, slamming her apartment door closed behind her. "Sorry about that, he just made me so mad I had to do something," Lara said, watching as Celia returned from the bathroom. "So what were you able to find out today?"

"Well for one thing, you were right—Jones _did_ try to contact me to see where you were but I didn't answer his e-mail like you told me and I found out that he came here looking for you."

"_He came here_?" Lara asked, amazed. "I never heard him."

"With those damn sleeping pills you take, I'm not surprised. I guess you were really out of it or something because he came back to the office almost immediately afterwards. But that's not why I came over. I found out that there was no rebel activity anywhere near here last night that required the presence of any agents. Jones told you a lie when he said that."

"But why would he lie to me? Why couldn't he tell me the truth—that he just didn't want me?" Lara cried, sitting heavily on her sofa. Celia sat beside her friend and patted her shoulder.

"Hon, believe me when I say this: he did want you—in the worst way and maybe he left because he was afraid he'd hurt you or something. Did you ever think of that?"

"No," Lara mumbled and thought about what her friend had just told her. Well, it could be true I guess. If Jones was too eager or if I wasn't ready, he could really hurt me with very little effort.

"Was Jones aroused when he left? Was he, you know, hard?"

"He was hard enough to cut diamonds," Lara stated abruptly.

"Well, that explains it then. He did want you. Badly. So, how was it? What did you guys do?" Celia grinned wickedly when she saw Lara blush so deeply even her ears were red. Feeling very naughty, Celia pressed on. Like all women who are close friends, they talked freely and unreservedly about every subject possible, especially men and sex.

"How was he? I mean, how _big_?"

"Huge," Lara said, grinning back at her friend.

"Exactly how big?" Celia asked, pressing the issue.

"If I tell you, will you tell me how big Brown is?"

Now it was Celia's turn to blush.

"Don't tell me you two haven't had sex yet!" Lara exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes and no. No, we haven't had intercourse, Ms. Nosey, but we did do sixty-nine. Sort of."

"Sort of? What the hell does that mean?" Lara asked, leaning forward eagerly so as not to miss any of the juicy details. "Was he really big? Could you even take all of him in? What happened when he came?"

"My God!" Celia laughed. "You have everyone fooled with that innocent girl-next-door face, but inside, you are almost as bad as me! Okay, I'm partly to blame for corrupting your morals, but I don't mind. To tell the truth, he got me off by touching me and…"

"Where did he do this? And when?" Lara demanded.

"In a movie theatre. No one else was there except the two of us and…"

"_You went down on him in a theatre_!" Lara exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and her mouth open. It seemed that there was no place as being off-limits when it came to Celia answering the call of lust.

"I'm not gonna tell you a thing if you don't stop interrupting me!" Celia said, wagging a finger. "Now let me finish the story, will you? Here goes: _As I said, there was no one else there. The movie was a real turkey and I stopped watching about fifteen minutes in. I think Brown tuned out earlier than that—it was some cheesy horror movie. You know the kind I mean: it's heavy on the cheese and low on the horror. Low budget schlock. Just to prevent myself from trying not to yell "She's hiding behind the door!" to the serial killer on the screen, I slid my hand along Brown's leg and wouldn't you know it? He had a half-woody and I, um, worked on it until it was completely hard. The next thing I know, he reached beneath my skirt and started touching me._

_It has been a long time since someone other than myself touched me there and I spread my knees wider without a second thought. He laughed wolfishly in my ear as he felt how wet I was._

"_It seems to me that you are just a little eager for more, Ms. Alvarez," Brown said._

"_And you aren't?" I retorted, placing my hand over his crotch and feeling for myself how his rigid manhood strained against the fabric of his pants._

"_Touché," he replied and the more I continued to stroke him, the huskier his voice sounded. His breathing became rapid and short but then again, so was mine. I bit my lip to keep my groans of pleasure to myself—I was going to come very shortly and we both knew it._

_His fingers brought me closer and closer to climax and I whimpered in anticipatory delight. When I came, Brown covered my lips with his and he moaned under his breath as I continued to stroke him. My orgasm was a big one and it was a while before I could get my breath back. Feeling the tenseness of Brown's body, it took me a moment to go to my knees before him. But before I could get down to business, he took my hand away from his groin._

"_No, Celia, not here. I have a better place in mind." _

_He helped me stand up and we left through the side exit. As you know, there are two doors between the theatre and the exit itself; kind of a vestibule. Anyway, Brown had his hand on the outer door to open it but I backed him up against the wall and we started to kiss._

_Brown's lust had been roused to its fullest extent but I had no idea how much until kissed me. His passion was now full-blown, his mouth was hungry and eager and he kissed me as if my lips were some source of sustenance that he couldn't get enough of._

_I put my hands against his waist and he held me so close in an embrace I'm sure there wasn't an inch of space between us. Our bodies were fused as one from the neck down but even so, he could not get close enough to me. Brown put one hand in the small of my back and groaned as he ground his hips into mine so I couldn't help but feel his erection._

"_See how much I want you, Celia?" he said hoarsely, his mouth next to my ear. The feel of his hot breath against my neck was driving me insane; however, I resolved to reciprocate what he had done to me. I reached down and stroked his rock-hard cock through his pants and he groaned again. _

_I looked up at Brown and his eyes were closed. His breathing was hard and heavy and to be honest, Lara, I loved the fact that what I was doing was giving him considerable pleasure. Just I was going to unzip him, my hand was suddenly jerked away. _

"_Are you sure you want to do this?" Brown asked, his voice gruff with suppressed passion._

"_Yes, of course," I replied. "You gave me a great deal of pleasure and it's my turn to reciprocate." He gave me a narrow look and I sought to reassure him. "I _want_ to do this, Brown."_

"_Maybe this wasn't such a great idea; someone might come this way and see us…"_

"_Let them see, I don't care! Besides," I said boldly, "the fear of getting caught only heightens the pleasure. Don't you worry," I said mischievously, "no one is going to come through those doors because, we were the only ones in the theatre, remember?" My hand resumed the activity it had been pleasurably engaged in. "Do you really want me to stop?" I asked Brown, looking into his eyes. He swallowed and shook his head. I caressed his strong jawline and kissed him again._

_I went to my knees, unzipped his pants, and slid my hand inside. I started to stroke him, my hand gliding up and down his shaft. Positioning myself so I would be as comfortable as possible, I leaned closer and licked the tip of his penis, moistening it. Brown inhaled sharply and I could feel his entire body twitch when I gently blew on the spot that I had just licked._

_As I continued to please him orally, to my surprise, I found that I was becoming very aroused listening to the sounds he was making as I continued to suck him off. The more he moaned and groaned, the hotter my pussy became. I had become so wet that had I decided not to wear panties, my juices would have run down the inside of my thighs and soaked the carpeting._

_As surreptitiously as possible, I balanced myself as best I could and reached between my legs and zeroed in on my swollen clitoris. My fingers were slick and wet as I thrummed my finger back and forth across my clit. I doubled my efforts to please him, alternately deep-throating his member, and then withdrawing until only the head remained in my mouth as I applied just the right amount of suction. _

_I was the first to come and as my orgasm exploded, I took him inside of my mouth as far as it would go. Brown's moans were loud and when he came deep inside of me, he cried out in rapture, his entire body twitching and jerking. Instinctively, he grabbed my head by the ears, telling me without words that he wanted to be as deep as possible inside of me. His penis pulsated in my mouth and I eagerly swallowed every drop of his ejaculate, milking him dry._

_I zipped him back up and after he had composed himself to some degree, he gallantly helped me to my feet. I fumbled through my purse as I searched for a package of breath mints but Brown took the hand that I had used to pleasure myself and put my finger into his mouth, licking it clean. _

"_Don't turn away from me, my love," he said softly. He must have seen my dubious expression for he smiled a little and kissed me right on the mouth. Hand in hand, we left the corridor and went to his car._

lllll

"Can't that man take no for an answer?" Lara demanded when the doorbell rang again. She stormed to the door and yanked it open.

"Goddamn it, Smith, why can't you leave me the fuck—" Lara's mouth fell open with shock when she saw the Oracle standing there.

"May I come in?" she asked with a kind smile.

"I thought you were someone else," Lara stammered, standing aside so that the older woman could enter. "I thought you were—"

"Smith, yes I know," the Oracle said and sighed. "That's why I came—to talk to you about that son of mine."

She smiled and nodded when she saw Celia and graciously sat on the sofa between the two friends. The Oracle turned her attention to Lara. "I heard about your not going in to work today, Lara. Are you all right?"

Lara blushed. "I—I'm fine. I just didn't feel going in because I might run into Jo—Agent Jones."

The Oracle smiled kindly and patted the younger woman's hand. "I understand, dear. And I know the reason, too."

Lara blushed furiously and bent her head so that her hair covered her face.

"Don't hide that pretty face of yours from me, child," the Oracle said softly, "we're all women here with experience of the world and men. _Especially_ men," she said coyly, a dimple flashing in her cheek. "Speaking of which," she said, checking her watch, "your men are a trifle late."

Lara and Celia glanced sharply at the Oracle, puzzlement written plainly on both their faces.

"What I meant was that Agents Brown and Jones are on their way here now. I took the liberty of asking them to meet us at your apartment, Lara. I know you don't want to see Jones right now, but you must. We must put our heads together and figure out what to do about Smith. This has gone far enough, I think." She took Lara's hand and looked into her eyes. "You have to tell him. Jones has the right to know. Don't you think you've kept it inside long enough?"

Lara jerked her hand away and stood up. "I haven't told anyone, _anyone_ about what Smith did to me. I can't tell Jones, Mother! I won't!"

Celia looked from one woman to the other in confusion. What the hell are they talking about, she wondered. Realizing that she would find out everything eventually, Celia said nothing, wisely not wishing to interrupt at this crucial moment. She had heard, as they had not, the ringing of the doorbell and without a word, she rose up and answered it, allowing Brown and Jones to come in.

It seemed that Brown had spoken to Jones at some point for the large agent looked much better now than when Celia had first seen him: he had obviously showered and put on a clean suit, but his eyes were still bloodshot.

"Hello boys," the Oracle said cheerfully, "glad you could make it. Now let's all sit down and see how to defeat Smith and Montgomery at their own game. But before we can begin, Lara, I think you should tell Jones what Smith did to you."

Jones angrily opened his mouth to ask what it was that Smith had done but the Oracle indicated with a raised finger that he should remain silent and Jones grudgingly obeyed. The Oracle knew it would be difficult enough for Lara to get the words out and having Jones interrupt would only complicate matters immensely.

Abruptly, Lara rose from the sofa and went to the window, staring into the afternoon sun. Jones went to her side but Lara resolutely turned her face and body away from him.

"Lara, why won't you look at me?" He bent his head and lowered his voice so that only Lara could hear him. "Is it because of last night?"

"No, it has nothing to do with that. I'm only turning away so that when I am done saying what I have to say, I won't have to see you leave. It would kill me to watch you leave my life forever."

"Leave you? Is that what you think I will do?"

"You _will_ leave me, I know it! There is no way you will be able to look at me if I tell you!" Lara cried out.

The Oracle laid a hand on Lara's shoulder. "Honey, what happened between Smith and you is bound to come out sooner or later. It would be best if Jones hears it from you first."

Lara took a deep, shuddering breath. She knew what the Oracle had said was only the truth. She allowed herself to be guided to the sofa and sat down, holding Celia's hand in her own. Lara looked up at the warm, chocolate-brown eyes of her best friend and Celia squeezed her hand comfortingly. Lara buried her face in her hands and began to tell the story of the worst night of her life.

_What happened between Smith and me was during my first week of employment at the Agency. You weren't there, Celia, because..._

Lara had been about to say that Celia had been in the hospital because of what her previous boyfriend, Derek Steele had done to her. Celia squeezed Lara's hand and shook her head slightly. Lara deduced instantly that she hadn't told Brown yet and that Lara shouldn't either. That would be between the two of them and this was definitely not the time or place to bring it up.

_It doesn't matter. During that first week, no one in the secretarial pool talked to me at all, it was as if I didn't even exist. Every night I received a pile of work from Smith that kept me from leaving at five p.m. with the other women but I didn't mind that much as the only thing waiting for me at my apartment was lots of unpacking._

_I usually managed to make it to the subway stop on time but that Friday night, I missed it by a matter of seconds. As I didn't have money for a cab fare, I had no choice but to wait an hour until the next train arrived. I didn't relish the idea of waiting in a deserted subway station for there were always some rowdy gangs of teenagers loitering about and I was too afraid to stay. I had two options—stay and wait or walk home. I chose walking home as I had purchased a pair of running shoes earlier that day and I had left them at my desk. As it was the beginning of the weekend, walking home seemed safer than staying where I was._

_I retrieved my shoes and began to walk home. To my surprise, I heard a man call out my name. I turned and discovered it was Agent Smith and he was in his car, apparently travelling in my direction. I did not know at the time that he had been following me._

"_Would you like a ride, Ms. Rodgers?" he called out through the passenger window and as he had been the only one all week to offer me even a crumb of kindness, I gratefully accepted his offer. He even got out of his car to open the door for me and I was pleased by his Old-World gallantry. I told him where I lived and we set off._

_As he proceeded to drive me home, he made some attempt at small talk. I can even remember feeling flattered as Smith told me how impressed he was with my work. After he said this, I blushed and thanked him. Sooner than I expected, we pulled up in front of my apartment building._

"_Well, I suppose this is good night," I said, turning to open the door. _

"_Not quite, Ms. Rodgers," Smith said with a smile. For a moment, the moonlight reflected on his face made him look absolutely diabolical but as I looked closer, the expression of hungry lust was gone and I chided myself for thinking the worst of him._

_He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I gasped as his lips lingered on my skin, his warm breath caressing my cheek. I know now I should've used any method necessary to get away from him, but at the time, I thought nothing of it._

Lara faltered in my recital at this point for what she was going to say next would hurt Jones.

"Go on, dear," the Oracle gently encouraged her. Lara took a deep breath and concentrated her gaze on her fingers. It was far easier to do that than meet Jones' eyes.

_Smith kissed me and…I kissed him back. It had been a while since I had even been kissed by a man and…I liked it. After all, Smith could be considered an attractive man by any woman's standards. Our kiss intensified and I felt my pulse rate increase._

Lara stopped speaking and bent her head even lower so that no one could see her face. Again, the Oracle was there to give her courage.

"Tell us only what you are comfortable with, Lara," she said. Lara nodded, grateful that she wouldn't have to mention how aroused she had been that night as she and Smith kissed.

_When things began to heat up between us, I realized that it was not a good idea to get involved with someone who was my boss. _

"_No," I said, trying to break out of his embrace before things could get out of hand. "This isn't right."_

"_The hell it isn't," Smith growled. "The time for you to say no has long since passed, Ms. Rodgers. You initiated this series of events when you agreed to get in my car. Now I am going to demand payment for driving far out of my usual route in order to see you home. And the only form of currency I will accept from you is this."_

_In an instant, his knee had insinuated itself between my legs. He was trying to use his greater weight to force me to lie down and I struggled futilely to prevent that from happening._

_I heard him chuckle in the darkness. "The more you resist, Ms. Rodgers, the more it arouses me. See?" He ground his pelvis into mine so that I could feel the truth of his words. The size and hardness of his member frightened me and blind panic flooded through my system, rendering me incapable of thinking or acting in a logical manner._

_I redoubled my efforts to get away, but he was an agent after all and there was nothing I could do to get free; there was no weapon I could use to correct my predicament so I could escape._

_He pinned me down with the weight of his upper body while he fumbled with his belt. When I heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down, I lost control of myself. I bit and scratched, pounding my hands against his chest as he moved his hips into position over mine._

_It seemed that at least one of my blows struck home for he slapped me hard across the face and I moaned in pain. "I will fuck you as hard and brutally as I can if you resist me in any way. Furthermore, if that does not convince you to behave yourself, perhaps this might: I will see to it that your mother pays a very high price for your insubordination."_

_My breath froze in my throat. "You can't do that! Your jurisdiction doesn't extend to Canada!"_

_I could hear the smile in his voice as he answered. "I would not underestimate the reach of my power if I were you, Ms. Rodgers. I can get to anyone, anytime, anywhere in the Matrix and your mother is no exception. Now spread yourself for my pleasure for you are going to get fucked like you never have before."_

_He hiked up my skirt and pushed aside the crotch of my panties. "You women are all the same—you dress provocatively, adorn yourselves in perfume and makeup in an attempt to entice men and when we respond, you have the gall to tell us 'no?'_

"_Please don't do this," I begged. _

_With a grunt of exertion, he entered my body with one hard push. I cried out as I felt myself being torn apart. I lay underneath him, willing myself not to move. Tears of pain and humiliation leaked from my eyes and I was dimly aware of them as they meandered lazily down my temple and into my ears and hair._

_Each time he thrust into me, I prayed to die for I felt pain on such a level that death would be a blessing. The longer the assault went, the worse the pain became and I was not able to stop myself from crying. I stifled my sobs as best as I could for I was going to take no chances with my mother's wellbeing by angering Smith in any way. His thrusts were faster and harder and I could tell by his movements that he could not hold out much longer. _

_I tried to tell myself that I would not give Smith the satisfaction of knowing how much he was hurting me but I could not. Through clenched teeth, I heard myself whimper._

_Smith heard me and mistook my sounds of pain for those of enjoyment. "You like this, don't you?" he crooned in my ear. "I knew you would and your body knows it too. I can hear what it is saying to me: Deeper. Harder. Faster." _

_He picked up his pace and drove himself into me accordingly, again and again. I closed my eyes tightly and tried not to let panic overwhelm me. In an attempt to distance myself from the agony I was feeling, I frantically tried to see out of the windows, trying to think of a way to catch the attention of anyone walking by. Smith chuckled, his lips against my throat._

"_Scream all you want. A Mardi Gras parade could pass by no one could hear you. In case you haven't noticed, the windows are tinted so no one can see you either," Smith said, his voice thick with lust and the promise of his rapidly approaching orgasm. His breath came hot and heavy in my ear and he groaned, clutching me so hard against his body that it hurt._

"_Fucking you is turning out to be more pleasurable than I thought," he said hoarsely, "you are so tight, so dry; I can feel your flesh is closing around me--aargh!" With the force of a cannon, Smith exploded inside me and growled deep in his throat as he continued to thrust until his orgasm was completely spent._

_Now that it was finally over and he stopped pushing himself into me, I became angry even above the pain._

"_I'm going to report you to the Architect," I vowed. To my annoyance, Smith only laughed._

"_Go ahead, report me. But consider this: whom do you think he will believe? A new employee of only three days standing or me, the lead agent who has been policing the Matrix decades before you were created? You are nothing, an insignificant cog in the wheel that is the Matrix. No one gives a damn about you and more importantly, no one will believe any accusations you could lob at me."_

_The truth of his words hit me and I knew he was absolutely right. Who was I indeed, to threaten Smith and his shield of inviolability? Who would believe me if I did report him? However, the realization hit me that it need not be that way. Looking back now, I know that I should have just kept my mouth shut but at the time, the glimpse of his smug face stung me into saying something that I shouldn't have._

"_I have all the proof any court of law would need," I hissed. "Physical evidence on and inside of me. Any first-year medical student who is able to perform a basic sexual assault examination will know that we did not have consensual sex."_

"_We'll see about that," Smith said gloatingly._

_When Smith withdrew his penis from me, an effusion of blood followed, soiling the pristine fabric of his car and Smith cursed disgustedly. Now it was my turn to gloat. "More evidence, Smith. Here is a bit of advice: the next time you rape a woman, give some thought to bodily fluids and how they will burn your sorry ass in court."_

"_I'll keep that in mind," he said with a sneer. He reached inside his jacket and drew out his Desert Eagle revolver. For a moment, I thought he was going to shoot me for daring to threaten him but he did not. "This is for threatening me," he snarled, hitting me in the side of the head with the butt of his gun and I blacked out._

_When I woke up, I was naked, cold, wet and in my own bed. The sequence of events since I became unconscious was easy enough to follow: Smith had taken me back to my apartment and washed me, eliminating all of the physical evidence that would prove a case of rape._ _Even with my limited knowledge of the Matrix's legal processes and procedures, it would be a clear case of '_he said, she said._' Legally, and for all intents and purposes, he was untouchable._

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Lara's recital was complete. Her eyes had been tightly closed during all of it but now that she was finished, she hesitated to open them for fear of what she would see.

"It's OK honey," the Oracle said softly, "it's all over now. Smith will never hurt you again."

"Jones?" Lara whispered fearfully. "Is he gone?"

"I'm here," Jones said as he touched her shoulder. Lara threw herself into his arms and held him as tightly as she could.

"You didn't leave," she said wonderingly and she buried her face in the front of his shirt. "I thought you would have left when you heard…."

"Lara," Jones said, holding her at arm's length so he could look into her eyes, "I hope I am a better man than you give me credit for. What he did to you was not your fault. Don't go blaming yourself. What happened afterward?" He swallowed, trying to suppress his rage so that Lara would not see it and be frightened. "Did he ever bother you again?"

Lara shook her head. "He hasn't looked at me twice from that day until this." Taking another breath, she continued her narration, comforted beyond words that Jones was willing to stand by her side. Now that he knew the worst, the rest of what she had to say came easy.

_For the remainder of the weekend, I debated what to do. A large part of me wanted to quit my job so I would never have to lay eyes on Smith again. However, that wasn't an option. Since my father's death, my mother had been ill and needed medical attention and the stipend I promised to send her from my paycheck would go a long way in making her life easier._

_I could not afford to quit, no matter how much I wanted to. I had no choice._

_That Monday, I went to work as usual but to avoid being noticed by Smith or any other man at the Agency who might find me the least bit attractive, I changed my appearance as much as I could. I did not use the slightest trace of makeup and dressed in only severe professional attire, wearing my hair in a bun. Dowdy and plain would be my mantra from that point onward and it worked: no man at the Agency looked twice at me since. I became invisible, nothing more than a wallflower; the kind of woman a man would glance at then glance away for there was nothing interesting in me to warrant further notice. I was lonely, yes, but lonely meant safe._

Lara reached up and stroked Jones' cheek. "Two weeks after it happened, I met you, do you remember?" Lara smiled slightly when Jones nodded his head to indicate that he hadn't forgotten. Her eyes never left Jones' face and she spoke to him as if there was no one else in the room.

_Whenever I chanced to see Smith, I looked through him as if he wasn't there and he did the same to me, even though I quaked in my shoes every time he came near me. From time to time, I saw him in the company of two other men dressed exactly the same as he. One appeared to be much younger in age while the other was almost as twice as broad than Smith could ever hope to be. It was you, Jones. As I expected, the younger agent passed me by without a second glance but you did not. I could feel your eyes on me periodically and every time I looked back at you, you looked away. _

_One day I had to lock away some low-level security files in the vault and as I entered the doorway, I found myself at eye level with a silver tie clip. I gasped in fear, for I was afraid it was Smith in front of me but the barrel chest and broad shoulders blocking my exit certainly did not belong to him. Your shoulders seemed to fill up the entire doorway and you were so tall that I had to take a step back to look fully into your face. Like Smith, you wore a black, perfectly pressed suit and your jacket, shirt and tie were immaculate. You looked like you had just returned from a photo shoot for the cover of '_Gentlemen's Quarterly_' magazine. In my opinion, you were certainly handsome enough to grace its cover._

"_Who are you?" you asked, tilting your head to the side and looking at me curiously if a little narrowly at the same time. After all, I was in a restricted area and you were only during your duty, ensuring that the secrets of the Matrix remained safe. _

"_Lara. Lara Rodgers," I replied, trying not to let my embarrassment show too much. _

"_What are you doing in the vault?"_

"_I—I had to return some files," I stammered, trying not to come across like a complete idiot. You extended your hand and told me you wanted to inspect my ID badge. I removed it from my jacket and you studied it for a long time—probably trying to detect if it was a forgery or not. I was relieved when you handed it back to me._

_Even though I had promised myself to not get involved with another man, I could not leave until I knew your name. "Who are you?" I asked timidly, fully expecting you to not answer my question or tell me to mind my own business._

"_Jones. Agent Jones," you replied. From behind your dark glasses, you continued to stare at me and I fidgeted nervously, uncomfortable under your gaze. The silence deepened between us until eventually you stood aside and let me pass._

"_Bye," I said as I walked past and I couldn't resist turning to look back at you. I was surprised when I saw you look along your shoulder at me. You didn't say anything to me in return but I didn't care. That was the first time any man ever looked twice at me._

"Until that day in the elevator," Lara said, gazing fondly up at Jones. She felt herself being patted on the back by Celia.

"You never told me," Celia said, her voice breaking. "You kept that inside of you all this time…" She was not the kind of woman who cried easily, but the tears flowed fast and heavy from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Cel, but I couldn't tell anyone. I was afraid Smith would hurt my mother and that is why I've never breathed a word to anyone."

"Your fear to speak out is precisely the reason he has to be punished," the Oracle said. "We have to find a way to go about it, but we have to do it circumspectly and not draw any attention to ourselves or we will fail. I'm sure that if the five of us put our heads together, we'll think of something."


	13. Cowardice and Courage

Cowardice and Courage

Disclaimer: My fellow co-author, smithsbabe65 and I do not own the Matrix; we are merely its slaves.

Warning: Explicit adult content. Enjoy!

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Strolling along one of the Agency Building's many hallways, Jones and Brown heard the snicker and suppressed laughter of the company's main blabbermouth, Jeffrey Montgomery, joined by his usual group of hangers-on. The two primary agents slowed their steps to hear what the slimy little weasel had to say.

"I told you guys before," the office snitch said with a generous hint of pride and officiousness, "those two—Celia and Lara—are dykes or why else would they constantly hang around with each other? Ever notice that they are always together, either at work or at home? Where one of them is, the other is sure to be around somewhere. Damn shame though. Maybe they are lesbians because they just haven't gotten a good fuck, you know? I know for a fact that neither of them has slept with any man in quite a while, not even with their boyfriends--Jones and Brown. I wouldn't be surprised if those two had blue balls from hearing 'no' all the time."

Brown glanced sideways at Jones and the two understood one another. Montgomery had to be taught a lesson and there was no time like the present. They waited until he was alone before taking each of his arms and unceremoniously dragging the diminutive agent wannabe down the hallway. Monty did not stand a chance on getting free and he knew it. To his credit, he knew better than to try to fight off the two agents, both of whom towered over him by at least a foot.

"Where are you taking me?" he whined, his voice retaining none of the exaggerated bravado he had displayed with his friends.

"To teach you a lesson about things you do not understand," snarled Brown.

"Not so brave without your posse, are you?" Jones said disdainfully.

Before Montgomery could formulate an effective answer, he was shoved into an empty office with Brown locking the door behind him.

"We are here to prove your cases for you, Monty," said Jones gruffly, "aren't we, Agent Brown?"

"Correct, Agent Jones." He caught the confused expression on the man who was now their victim and smiled. "What point, you may ask? The point you yourself made not ten minutes ago when you told Drummond that people of the same gender who spend a lot of time together must be homosexual."

Slowly and deliberately, Jones removed his jacket and loosened his tie. The realization of what was going to happen next flooded through Montgomery's system and his face slackened in abject and total fear.

"Oh God," Montgomery moaned pathetically as he felt Jones grab him by the back of his head and force him face down onto the nearby desk. He whimpered in horror when he heard Jones begin to fumble with his belt and pants.

"Jones," Brown said softly, "what are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm going to teach this little worm a lesson he won't soon forget."

Brown shifted uncomfortably. Jones had every right to be angry but in the long run, sodomizing Montgomery would only add to his problems, not erase them.

To the best of Brown's knowledge, Lara and Jones had not consummated their relationship and Brown felt that if Lara discovered what Jones had done--however much Montgomery had deserved it—she would not wish to continue their association any longer. Celia had told him once in confidence that Lara was frightened of Jones' size and strength, and Brown theorized that if she learned that her lover had raped another being, even if that person was Monty, she would probably wonder if Jones would do the same to her if he got angry with her. I have to stop him before he does something he will regret later.

"Don't do this, Jones," Brown said quietly.

"Why the hell not?" Jones snarled. "You heard what the little shit said about Celia and Lara. He's going to pay for saying those things."

"And he will, but not like this. I have a better way."

Jones was intrigued enough not to proceed further. "Get up, you worthless collection of redundant files," he ordered Montgomery. From sheer relief, the diminutive program could not move a muscle but lay on the desk breathing heavily, hardly believing his good luck.

"My colleague told you to do something," Brown said, yanking him onto his feet, "and when you get an order from an agent of the system, you obey instantly. Do you understand?"

Montgomery nodded. He owed Brown a huge debt for his intervention and he did not intend to give the youngest agent a reason to regret his actions.

"Where are we going?"

"Your place is not to question but to do as you are told," Brown said. He glared at Montgomery who swallowed and avoided further eye contact. Jones eyed Brown with curiosity. His younger associate had something up his sleeve and Jones waited until he could be let into the plan. Shortly afterward, the three men arrived on the roof. Brown marched Monty to the very edge of the rooftop and forced him to look down.

"How far would you estimate it is to the ground, Jones?" Brown asked.

"About a thousand feet, give or take," Jones answered, shrugging his broad shoulders. Judging by Monty's demeanour, Jones deduced that he was afraid of heights for Smith's lackey looked like he would wet himself at any moment.

An idea occurred to him on how best to exploit the situation and utilize the office snitch's obvious weakness and Jones stepped forward, meeting Brown's gaze. The younger agent released his grip and Montgomery began to fall. A few seconds later, he felt himself being grabbed by the neck and held at arm's length into thin air.

"To make you fall," Jones said menacingly, "all I have to do is loosen my grip. Look down."

Monty did as he was told and cringed when he realized that the only thing between himself and a horrifying demise was the strong hand of the largest agent. Fear makes one do stupid things at times and Monty was no different. Instead of feeling secure in Jones' obvious ability to keep him aloft, he squirmed and wiggled in an attempt to get free.

"Let me go, man!" he yelled, clawing hysterically at Jones' hand.

"Are you sure you really want me to do that?" Jones asked, his eyebrow raised in surprised disbelief. "Well, if that's what you want, then by all means." Jones loosened his grip enough so that Monty slid down a few inches.

"NO! NO! I take that back! Don't let me go! Please!" Monty screamed, correcting himself hastily, clutching at Jones' sleeve for any kind of a hold that would possibly stop him from becoming a bloody smudge on the concrete far below.

"If we hear you saying anything derogatory about Celia and Lara again, then both of us will haul your sorry ass off the top of this building," Brown warned. He nodded to Jones. "Let this pathetic excuse for a program go, Jones."

Jones obliged and once his feet were once again on firm ground, Montgomery fell to his knees and was direly sick.

"Let's leave before the bastard soils himself," Brown said. He rolled his eyes disgustedly when he saw the wet stain that now appeared on the groin of Montgomery's pants as he continued to vomit. "I spoke too soon. He's not worth any more of our time."

"You are right, Brown," Jones replied. "Besides, we had better get our assignments finished so we can meet our ladies at _Coco Loco's _as we promised. I owe you one, my friend," said Jones as soon as they were far out of earshot of the diminutive program who continued to heave his guts out onto the blacktop of the roof. "If I had penalized the little prick the way I wanted to, Lara would have seen me as some kind of degenerate who took advantage of my position to hurt another program, even if it was Smith's lackey."

"I knew you'd come around eventually," Brown said. Dropping his voice, he continued. "Get started on that project we discussed with the Oracle, will you?"

"With pleasure," Jones said with a look that Brown could not help smiling at when he saw it.

"Monty and Smith will have no idea what hit them, I'm sure of it," he responded.

"Brown, if there is anything I can ever do for you in repayment for stopping me today, will you let me know?" Jones asked.

"Invite me to the wedding," Brown said with a mischievous glint.

"You can be my best man if I can be yours," Jones countered, eyeing Brown as he waited for his response. Jones smiled to himself as he saw his friend's face flush. It seemed to Jones that he was not the only man with matrimony on his mind.

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At _Coco Loco's_, a Latin-inspired dance club, the two couples were having a very good time when Smith spied them sitting at a booth not far from the crowded dance floor. Sensing his distraction, the blonde young woman at Smith's side attempted to garner his attention back to her by whispering something provocative in his ear.

"Get lost," he ordered, never taking his eyes off the quartet in the booth. Growling menacingly, he reached into his pocket and carelessly threw some bills at the feet of his vacuous escort. Her pride was stung at his curt dismissal but when she saw the amount of money on the floor, necessity overcame pride and she scrambled to pick it up before anyone else saw it.

Weaving his way in the direction of his two associates and their dates, Smith smirked with pleasure when he saw the faces of all four programs sag in dismay when he strode up to them.

"Well, I must say I am surprised to see my fellow agents in a place such as this: crawling with human vermin who are intoxicating themselves to no purpose but to end the evening with fornicating anyone who catches their fancy."

No one at the table spoke and Smith pointedly remained standing, knowing full well that his presence was most unwelcome. His humourless smile spread across his face when he saw Brown open his mouth to ask his boss to sit with them and Celia's foot sharply kicking the young agent in the ankle to prevent him from doing so.

"May I join you?" Smith asked at last.

"You certainly may not," Lara said firmly. "In fact, why don't you leave us alone and go fuck your--"

Jones' hand squeezed hers and Lara understood that it would not be wise to finish her sentence. She pursed her lips in displeasure but said nothing further. To her exasperation, Smith eased himself beside her and Lara squeezed against Jones so that her body would have as little contact with Smith's as possible.

Lara ground her teeth in annoyance as she felt Smith deliberately take up as much room on the seat next to her as he could. As a result, Lara was uncomfortably aware that her short stature enabled Smith to get a very good look down her low-cut top but other than demanding to sit in Jones' lap and reveal how much Smith's presence bothered her, she had no choice but to remain where she was.

"I am surprised to see you both out on a weeknight," Smith drawled, lazily raking his gaze over Jones and Brown. "And drinking no less? What have you got to say for yourselves?"

"We can do whatever we like; we are not on Company time now," Lara retorted angrily and tried not to flinch when Smith turned his unblinking gaze on her.

"That is very true, Ms. Rodgers, but my colleagues are still agents of the system whether on or off duty and should conduct themselves accordingly. Furthermore, I was directing my concern to Jones and I wish to hear what his explanation is, _not_ yours--so do the first sensible thing you've done tonight and shut up."

Lara flushed in humiliation and bent her head in shame, not seeing Smith sport a look of absolute arrogance and pleasure at her comeuppance. A part of Lara's mind was following the reprimands that Smith was bestowing on his agents when she became aware that Smith had placed his left hand on her thigh and was sliding it slowly up her leg. He was gesturing with the other, naturally drawing the attention of Brown, Jones and Celia to what he was doing with his hand above the table rather than below it.

You bastard, Lara thought angrily, trying to squeeze herself out of reach from Smith's lecherous grasp. She stood up suddenly and requested to be excused. Smith frowned as he rose to give her passage and it was all Lara could do not to slap him when she felt him give her bottom a lingering caress.

Bracing her hand on the table, Lara brought down her stiletto heel as hard as she dared directly on Smith's foot, smiling blandly at him while he, in turn, glowered at her. Once free of the table, Lara made her way to the exit, slamming the door behind her. Cursing, she fumbled with the contents of her purse as she sought to find her Blackberry.

_Jones,_

_I can't stay in there any longer as long as that bastard is with us. Make any excuse you have to and meet me outside._

_L._

"Leaving so soon?" Smith said silkily, coming toward her. With every step he took toward her, she retreated, keeping as much distance between herself and Smith as possible until her back was pressed up against a brick wall.

"Yes," she said, hastily putting her personal digital assistant back in her purse before Smith would be able to read what she had sent but he grabbed it from her and perused the message for himself.

"By reading this, I am beginning to get the impression that you don't like my company very much."

"Took you long enough to reach that brilliant deduction, didn't it?" Lara sneered.

With a sinister grin, Smith placed one hand on either side of her shoulders, blocking any escape.

"No way out, Lara. You are trapped with me, alone, in this alley until I decide to let you go. And I have no intention of letting you get away just yet." Smith closed his eyes and inhaled her perfume. "Hmm, most tantalizing, I have to admit. You have no idea how much I want to re-discover and re-savour the hidden depths that lie within that seemingly frigid façade you present to the world. I wonder what other delectable mysteries about you I could penetrateif I put my mind—or _another_ part of me—to it."

Lara swallowed as the sexual connotation of his words became clear to her.

"I know for a fact that you have not allowed Jones to sample the lust that burns behind your eyes. Any observant man can see that you desire to be taken and possessed. But while Jones obviously does not have the balls to fuck you like you deserve, _I_ certainly do. As I did once before, do you remember? So new to the Agency you were back then--so naïve, so trusting."

"No, not again," Lara whimpered as Smith placed his hand in the small of her back and ground his hips against hers so that she would have no choice but to feel his burgeoning erection. He groaned when her breasts were pressed against his chest.

"During our last encounter, I did not pay enough attention to these rather impressive mammary glands of yours—my mind was focused on another part of your anatomy. Of course, I will rectify that oversight immediately," Smith said with a leer and Lara moaned in pain when he began to roughly knead her breasts with his hands. "I know Jones has fondled and suckled them so you need not cringe from feeling my touch instead of his. Humans might refer to that as getting to second base. He almost hit a home run before he ran from you that night the two of you nearly consummated your relationship, but the big oaf never returned to complete what he started, did he? He left you alone, very aroused and lonely."

"How did you know about that?" Lara asked, desperate to keep him talking, to keep his mind focused on answering her queries instead of answering the call of lust that coursed through his body.

Smith chuckled in the darkness and the sound of his amusement froze Lara's simulated blood in her veins.

"The big dolt never removed his earpiece and I was listening to everything that went on between you both as you were getting ready to have sex. It was highly stimulating, I can assure you. Especially the part where he slid his tongue between your legs and tasted you." Lara turned her head with disgust as Smith deliberately and sensuously licked his lips.

So _that_ was the reason Jones left, Lara thought, enlightened. _That _was why he made up that story about rebels being nearby--he preferred that I think that he did not want me rather than the real reason: Smith was eavesdropping on our lovemaking. He took that drastic measure to preserve my honour and save me the humiliation of seeing the knowing smirk on Smith's face the next time he saw me.

"But in the long run, it was for the best--had you consummated your relationship that night, Jones would have had only my sloppy seconds. As it stands, since I was the last man to fuck you, I need not fear contracting any sexually transmitted diseases. Thank you for saving yourself for me," Smith said with a smirk.

Lara felt Smith's knee begin to worm its way between her legs in an attempt to pin her more forcefully against the wall. The memory of what Smith had done to her all those years ago raced through Lara's mind. It was happening again. Persephone's near escape in the parking garage had brought long-hidden memories to the surface and since then, Lara's dreams had been of sexual violation and pain.

After her rape by Smith, Lara had turned to mind-numbing narcotics and alcohol to make her mind slip into easy forgetfulness. She abandoned the dream of experiencing love for what man wants a woman who should have known better than to put herself in danger by blindly trusting a man whom she would have done well to avoid. In his own perverted way, Smith was correct--she _was_ damaged goods.

For nearly two months, she had been refusing to become intimate with Jones, always holding him off from acting on his desires despite the fact that they mirrored her own. Lara's spine stiffened into cold, hard resolve. If she gave in to Smith's lust now, the cycle of drugs and nightmares would begin all over again, obliterating forever her dream of loving Jones.

No.

"No," Lara said firmly, raising her hands so that they were against Smith's chest. Common sense told her that she had virtually no chance of pushing an agent away from her. However, an agent is a program in a human male body and inside that body is one weakness that all men share, program or not.

"This is what I should've done the last time you tried this, Smith," Lara spat, bringing her leg up quickly and decisively, her knee making solid contact with Smith's groin. He doubled over and backed away from Lara, his hand automatically holding his throbbing crotch.

Enraged and in considerable pain, Smith snarled, "You little bitch! Your mother is a dead woman, Lara! But before I kill her, I'm going to fuck her until she bleeds, just like I did to you!"

Lara ran into the relative safety of the club, returning to the table out of breath and scared out of her wits.

"Lara, where did you go? I just read your message and was going to look for you. What happ--" Jones asked, but cut himself off at seeing the frightened look on her face. In as few words as possible, she told him what had happened between herself and Smith in the alley. As a precaution, Brown pulled Jones aside and spoke quietly in his ear.

"Don't go after him. Go to the Architect, _now_. Talk to him first before you do anything. I know how you feel, Jones, I really do."

Jones gave his friend an angry look. "How the hell would—"

"Remember when Smith had taken Celia out? I was so mad and worried about what he was doing to her I could hardly think straight," Brown said. He patted Jones on the shoulder. "We'll take care of her, don't worry. Just go."

Jones nodded, acknowledging the logic of Brown's statement. "Celia, could you help me take Lara to my place?" he asked, removing his jacket and placing it over Lara's quivering form. Celia nodded and put an arm around her friend's shoulders and led the way out.

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"Why did I let him get to me like that?" Lara whimpered as she poured out the entire story to her three friends. "I hit Smith! And because of that, he's going to go after my mother! What am I going to do?"

"I'll think of something," Jones said, kissing the top of her head as he held her trembling body in his arms. "I think it might be a good idea if you stayed out of his way for a while. You should move in with me for a few days and not go to work—that way, you won't be a constant reminder. Celia, could you go to Lara's and get some clothes? Brown, could you go with her?"

Celia nodded and Brown followed her out the door.

"Once they get back, I'll tell the Architect everything and we can go from there," Jones said. "While we are waiting, you should have a hot bath. It will warm you up."

Lara nodded her thanks and followed him into the bathroom. Her knees were still shaking and she sat on top of the laundry hamper.

"There," Jones said, testing the temperature of the bath water with his hand. "Not too hot, not too cold. I'll be right back after I get something for you to wear."

Lara was still sitting where he had left her when Jones returned with one of his white shirts in his hand. "It might help you sleep if you got out of those clothes and wear this instead. Don't worry, I have lots of these," he said, when she looked at him questioningly. "You didn't think I had only one shirt, did you?"

"I wasn't sure," Lara said with a trembling smile.

"It may look like I have only the one suit, but I don't. Agents are given a lot of those suits in case the one we are wearing at the time gets soiled or something."

He was only making idle conversation to cover the awkward silence between them and they both knew it. He turned his head sharply when there was a knock at the door and familiar voices were heard inside his living room. Celia and Brown had returned.

"You'd better get in while the water is still hot. I have to see the Architect now," Jones said curtly. He twitched his tie into place and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

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Clucking and fussing like a solicitous mother hen, Celia eased her friend into bed. "Drink this," she said, handing Lara a glass of brandy and a mild sedative. "You need your rest. Brown and I will be in the living room if you need anything."

"I'll take it later. I can never thank you both…" The awful idea that she might not see either of them again tore at her heart and her chin began to tremble.

Brown's expression softened when he saw the look on Lara's face and he sat down beside her and took her hand. "Don't worry—Jones will explain everything to the Architect. He'll explain that it was a clear-cut case of self-defence. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."

Impulsively, Lara leaned over and kissed him on the cheek as she wrapped her arms around him. Glancing up at Celia who gave him a smile and a nod, Brown returned Lara's embrace, hoping that the encouraging words he had just spoken would be the truth.

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"So that's what happened?" the Architect asked, watching Jones pace back and forth in his office. The multitude of television screens behind Jones' right shoulder proved over and over again that what he had said was the truth.

"He tried to rape her, sir, and she fought back the only way she knew how. Has he asked you to sign the order for her deletion?"

"No, I haven't seen him yet, and even if he did, I would refuse. She was only defending herself."

"Smith told me once that he would watch as he made me kill her if I didn't do whatever he wanted," Jones said angrily.

"He was overstepping his bounds for it is only _I_ that can give the order to terminate a program's existence, not him." He smiled as he saw Jones sigh deeply in relief.

"Thank you sir," Jones said, turning to leave. "Um…"

"Yes, Agent Jones?"

"If he should ever….I mean, he threatened to hurt Lara's mother—"

"I will not delete her either," the Architect said kindly. "And if he does go anywhere near Mrs. Rodgers, he will answer to me. However, I agree with your idea that Ms. Rodgers stay out of Smith's sight for a while. I will tell him not to expect her at work for the next few days. Go home and take care of her. Lara needs you."

The door to the Architect's office had no sooner closed than it opened again. "That was a very nice thing you did for him. I'm proud of you," the Oracle's said softly.

The Architect was flabbergasted and tried to cover his confusion and discomfiture by offering his ex-wife a seat.

"No I can't stay," she said, glancing behind her at the door where the Keymaker stood quietly. "We were just on our way out…"

The Architect nodded, purposefully ignoring the presence of his rival. "I hope you both have a good time. But there is something I have always wondered about.."

"Yes?" The Oracle said, her hand on the doorknob.

"You were the one who made the elevator in the Agency building stop between floors, weren't you? I know that no humans were unplugged that particular day when Jones and Lara were stranded."

The Oracle chuckled. "_Someone_ had to get Jones and Lara to take the first step towards finding each other—I just got them started."

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After Brown and Celia had left, Jones went into his bedroom and sat next to Lara. As he expected, she had not taken her sedative. Instead, she was wide-awake and waiting for him and he felt comforted by the touch of her small hand around his neck and her slight weight as she shifted her body so that she sat in his lap.

"You and your mother are both safe," he said, quickly filling her need to know her fate. "Smith can't delete either of you and the Architect won't sign for it."

"Thank you," Lara said, her breath fanning his cheek for a moment before she kissed him. "Make love to me, Jones," she whispered, closing her eyes. Why should we wait any longer? This is something we both want and it is time.

"Lara, are you sure? I thought you wanted to wait and after what almost happened tonight, do you think this is the right time?"

"Yes on both counts," she said, nodding her head decisively. "I want to be with you. Tonight. Now."

She embraced him, holding his body close to hers before withdrawing and holding his face between her hands, her fingers lightly touching the moles on his face. Jones softened his expression and looked sheepish.

"I don't know why I was given so many," he said with a slight smile but he was silenced when Lara's lips met his own. The needs of her body as well as her near-rape by Smith heightened Lara's sensory circuits until it felt like every millimetre of her skin was on fire. Frantic hunger to feel Jones' warm manly flesh inside of her filled every simulated pore of her body.

"I want you so much," she moaned, arching her neck when the scorching sensation of his lips on her skin drove her wild with lust. Her hands began to loosen his tie and collar but before she could continue, Jones took her hands in his.

"Lara, I have to ask you something: why are you so desperate for us to make love tonight? Is it because of what Smith tried to do to you?"

"Yes, but in a weird sort of way he did me a favour: he made me realize that there was no logical reason for us not to have been intimate until now." She reached up and flicked the earpiece away. "He told me about that, too. I would have liked to have heard the truth from you then about why you left me but never mind that now. Besides, you'd better finish what you started that night, do you remember?" Lara said, running her fingers over Jones' chest and arms.

"I remember it was pitch-black in the room and you couldn't see me. But I definitely could see you," he said. "Being able to see in the dark is one of the advantages of being an agent. But I didn't need my eyes to see how beautiful you are, Lara."

Lara's eyes clouded and she looked away. "I was nearly raped tonight, Jones. Smith would have taken what he wanted by force. But now I want to know what it will be like with you—to be taken with gentleness, to be treated as a woman should when she is with the man she loves."

Open mouthed, Jones stared at her, doubtful he had heard correctly. "You—you love me?" he asked.

"Yes, I do," Lara said, dropping her gaze. "But you don't have say it back—it's ok."

"Yes! I mean, no! I have felt the same way toward you since that day in the park…remember?"

"Before or after you grabbed my butt?" she asked teasingly, a mischievous look in her eyes.

"Before. Definitely before that."

"And what did you think? Did you like what you felt?" Lara said, finally succeeding in removing his tie and undoing several buttons on his shirt.

"Absolutely," Jones growled. "And how about you? What did _you_ think when I answered the door that morning wearing nothing but my shorts?"

Lara blushed and smiled coyly. "Well, it didn't leave much to the imagination, I have to say, but I _loved_ seeing you like that. And I can't wait to see the rest," she said, her eyes half-closed, but the desire for Jones shone from her face and eyes was plain to see.

She ran her fingers over his own, lightly caressing them. Jones felt a surge of arousal when she put one of his fingers into her mouth, licking and swirling her tongue around it before proceeding to the next. When she was done, she looked into his eyes, feeling no need to ask if he had enjoyed it.

"Would you like me to do that to you?" Lara asked, her voice husky. Jones swallowed with difficulty and nodded, not saying a word for fear Lara would reconsider, for no woman had ever volunteered to perform that very intimate act on him before. In all of his past encounters, he had been the one to request that service, not the other way around. True, Lara had started to perform oral sex on him the night he discovered Smith had been listening, but Jones had stopped her before his self-restraint had reached its breaking point.

"You don't have to, you know," he said softly. "I would never force you to do anything."

"I know," Lara responded. "You have never asked me, but I _want_ to do this. Lie down," she instructed and gently pushed him onto his back. She was still wearing his white shirt to cover her nakedness and he thought she had never looked so lovely. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders and she looked exactly as she had in his masturbatory vision--wanton, wild and filled to overflowing with unreserved sexual abandon and complete desirability.

He lay back as she had requested and as she straddled him, he saw her glance at his nude form from head to foot and back again. Starting at his shoulders, she caressed and touched wherever she wanted and Jones could not suppress a groan when Lara ran the fingers of both hands through the mat of hair that covered his chest, raking her fingernails against his skin. Playfully, Jones flexed a muscle in a showman-like fashion wherever Lara's touch lingered for any length of time and tried not to smile when she raised her eyebrows in feminine appreciation of the firmness of his well-toned body.

Unable to stop himself, he slid his hands along her thighs and sides with Lara leaning slightly forward so that he could caress her breasts as well. The feeling of their warm softness in his hands pleased her and Lara sighed when he lightly pinched the rosy nipples into complete hardness. Reaching up, he undid the buttons that hid her bosom from his view and her flushed skin glowed in the light of the small nightstand table.

"You are so beautiful, Lara," Jones said, touching her cheek. Planting a kiss in his palm, she held his hand against her face and looked into his eyes. Her mouth tightened and it looked like the simple movement of turning her head had hurt her.

"Are you all right?" Jones asked.

"It's nothing. My neck hurts a bit that's all," Lara said.

"Here, let me get behind you; I'll see what I can do to make you feel better."

Lara obliged by climbing off of him and Jones positioned himself so that he sat behind her. Skilfully, he massaged her neck and shoulders, easing away the tension and tenseness of her muscles and Lara relaxed against him.

"That feels so good," she sighed deeply as the fear and anxiety were washed away and she felt a sense of calm fill her system. She leaned back and rested against his chest and his arms wrapped around her, enhancing her feeling of safety and security. Her breathing quickened as he continued to hold her. Without a word, Lara moved his hands so that it touched her breasts.

"Put your hands on me, Jones," she whispered. "I need to feel you. I need to feel alive again, to be free of the fear that I felt earlier tonight. I want you to love me."

"I _do_ love you, Lara," Jones said softly. He eased her backward onto his arm and suckled one of her nipples, feeling it harden completely in his mouth. He turned his attention to the other as Lara whimpered, arching her back in pleasure. She lifted her arms to embrace him and met his kiss with full-blown passion.

Lara spread her knees and guided his hand to the molten core of her femininity, silently telling him where she most wanted to feel his touch. She gasped when his fingers parted her outer folds, before he slowly and leisurely touched her aching, swollen clitoris with his thumb. Every movement he made as he explored the hard sensitive nub made Lara's pulse race .

Lara clutched at Jones' muscular shoulders. "Please, _please_ don't stop," she begged. "It's been so long…." Her voice trailed off and Jones could feel her need copiously saturating his fingers, making them slippery with her viscous secretions. Jones was aware that she was referring to digital stimulation but he knew that every woman's deepest desire is to feel her lover's mouth on her womanhood. He brought his fingers up to his face and looked at the clear, gooey emission that clung to them before licking it off.

He took his time kissing his way down her flat belly until his mouth was a bare inch from her and Lara moaned when she felt his hot breath so close to her genitalia. When his tongue separated her folds, Lara arched her back and whimpered in delight, parting her legs even further.

When he began to suckle her clitoris, it was all Jones could do to hold onto Lara as her body writhed and shook. Her hands grabbed his hair, bringing more of his face in contact with her groin and the slight stubble on his cheeks and chin enhanced her pleasure exponentially to almost the point of pain.

Very shortly afterward, Lara's orgasm exploded, radiating a wave of such ecstasy that she could not recall ever having experienced before. Flashes of bright light burst behind her eyelids. When it was over, Lara was panting heavily and Jones had to repeat his query if she was all right several times before Lara was able to answer him.

"Thank you," Lara whispered. "That was amazing, I can't even begin to describe it." She had not intended to have her orgasm so quickly but her need at the time had overridden her desire to prolong the pleasure as long as possible.

"Now it's your turn," she murmured as she moved her position so that she knelt between his legs, her hair forming a curtain that shielded her face from his view. More than anything, he wanted to watch as she sucked him off, to see her mouth close around him as her head moved up and down so he tucked her hair behind her ears and feasted his eyes on the gorgeous woman who was eagerly going down on him.

He cried out when he felt Lara's hot, wet tongue swirl around the head of his member. He filled his hands with her hair but resisted the urge to push her head down so he could go deeper into her mouth.

Because of his circumference, Lara was not able to suck him off for long. Jones had to admit that he was disappointed when Lara broke off orally satisfying him. At least she made the effort and in Jones' opinion, that was all that mattered.

"Are you sure you want to do it this way?" he asked as Lara positioned herself so that she was on top of him. She explained that she had good reasons for choosing this position: she would be able to control how far and how fast she was entered. Jones nodded at the logic of her choice and he resolved to let Lara take the initiative and not push himself into her faster than she was ready to receive him.

"Besides," Lara said, smiling shyly, "you are so heavy, you might squish me."

"I don't want to hurt you, Lara," Jones said, his body desperate to consummate their relationship but his mind remained hesitant.

"Jones, I am a grown woman, not a porcelain doll that can be broken with the slightest touch. Just go slowly inside of me--let me set the pace and it will be all right."

Jones was not so sure. What if I hurt her even if I am gentle, he thought, frowning anxiously. My body is so large in comparison to hers, it wouldn't take much effort on my part to cause her pain. When Lara sat up again, her fingers lazily touched his engorged member as it rested against her nether region, hard and eager for further stimulation. Using her thumb and forefinger of one hand, she stroked him slowly, feeling his penis twitch when she touched him.

Jones watched in fascination as she reached between her legs and used her secretions to lubricate the head of his cock so that he could glide effortlessly inside of her. After several moments that seemed an eternity to Jones, Lara moved into position so that she could mount him.

Tentatively, she lowered her body onto his achingly hard penis, inching him deeper into herself slowly and carefully. Jones clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from lifting her by the hips and impaling her completely on his rigid manhood.

With each downward thrust, Lara pushed more of him deeper inside of her until he filled her completely. The feeling of being filled to the brim by this man that she loved was frightening and heady at the same time.

"Lean forward," Jones said softly. "I want to suckle you."

A flush of desire infused Lara's face and she readily obeyed, groaning deeply when his hot and eager mouth enveloped her nipple. His tongue flicked over the large aureole, sending a jolt of sheer lust straight to her groin. Lara moaned, a deep throaty sound, when he sucked at her like an infant. However, unlike a child, Jones was not seeking nourishment; he was in search of evidence that what he was doing was giving her pleasure as she was undoubtedly giving him. Lara's cries of desire filled his ears and he smiled to himself as he heard the proof he was searching for.

The dual pleasure of having him inside of her as he suckled her breasts each in their turn unconsciously made Lara ride him faster and faster as sweat dripped down her body. As her thrusts increased in their intensity, Jones began to counter thrust, matching her frenzied rhythm as lust coursed through his body, white-hot passion racing through them, each becoming aware that sexual climax was only moments away.

With one final savage thrust, Jones grabbed Lara by the hips and impaled her as far as he could go inside of her. Lara cried out just as Jones erupted inside of her, sending his hot seed deep into her crevice. She felt his penis pulsate as he came and the infinitesimal expansions and contractions as he pumped her coupled with the exquisite sensation of pain and pleasure, sent her over the edge into bliss.

Jones continued to thrust as long as he felt her vaginal walls milk him, drawing out every droplet of ecstasy that existed in Lara until her orgasm was spent and she collapsed on top of him, their breaths mingling in great panting gasps. It took a long time until each had regained their second wind and respiration returned to normal parameters.


	14. Hidden Talents

Hidden Talents

Disclaimer: My co-author, smithsbabe65 and I, do not own anything associated with the Matrix trilogy, blah blah blah.

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Lara stretched and felt beside her in the bed she and Jones shared but the sheets were cool to the touch. As she lay awake, Lara knew that he had not wanted to leave her alone in bed that night, especially after they had finished making love for the first time but the task he had been assigned was too important. Obviously, he had left her as soon as she had fallen asleep and begun to work on the prototype for the bugging device the Oracle had suggested.

Wearing only his trousers, Jones sat in front of his computer and was relieved that his task was finally done. All the programs and files had been downloaded into a listening device that was so inventive in shape and appearance, one would never figure out its true purpose. Jones sighed heavily, glad that it was over. After working for hours, he was exhausted. So much depended on the success of the listening device, it had been on his mind ever since the Oracle had brought up the idea. He had to get it right for there would be no second chances.

If all went well, the bug would be able to record and save all the conversations between Jeffrey Montgomery and Smith. In the Oracle's opinion, the treatment of most of the female employees at the Agency by those two men had been overlooked for far too long and they deserved to be punished.

However, it was the Architect that she had been most angry with: because of his reluctance to penalize Smith or Montgomery for their actions against their female co-workers was what made her bring up the idea of planting a listening device in the first place.

Once the necessary information had been gathered, it would be an easy matter to present the evidence to the Architect and with the Oracle's assistance and guidance, Smith and Montgomery would both be sued for sexual harassment and stripped of their rank and privileges. The Architect would no doubt demand hard proof of their philandering before he would agree to any form of punishment and the bug would give him all the evidence that was required. In that case, his hand would be forced into performing disciplinary action on the two programs.

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Jones leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He smiled when he heard soft footsteps come towards him and a pair of gentle hands begin to massage his shoulders.

"Mmm, that feels good," he murmured.

"Is that it?" Lara asked, leaning over his shoulder to see the finished product.

"Yes and because of it, we are finally going to be able to get the goods on Smith and Monty. With any luck, we will be able to present the Architect with enough proof that those two need to be punished."

"The design you came up with was absolutely brilliant, do you know that?" Lara said, kissing his cheek. "Now that it's done, are you coming back to bed anytime soon?" she whispered, her lips against Jones' ear. Her tongue had begun tracing the swirls and convolutions of his ear and Jones groaned in pleasure.

"What are you doing?" he asked, pulling Lara onto his lap.

"I'm trying to make you so horny so that you will come to bed. Is it working? If not, how about this for an incentive?" She was still wearing his white shirt and she set to work on undoing the buttons so he could get a glimpse of what she was offering.

"Definitely," Jones replied softly. He growled in his throat as her hands roamed over his bare torso. If he had not been so worn out, Jones would have liked nothing more than to feel Lara's body against his, as they lay entwined in a passionate embrace. In his case, the spirit was willing but the flesh was another matter.

Lara looked up and saw dark circles under his eyes. Rest was what he needed most, not sex, and even though she wanted him to make love to her again, Lara was not the kind of woman to put her own needs over that of her lover, friend and soul mate. Jones was all three and more. She put her arms around his neck and nestled her forehead against his.

"It's okay, Jones, I know you're tired. You've satisfied me enough for one night."

Jones held her in his arms and hugged her tightly. Her understanding of his current state of fatigue made him love her even more. He reached over and put the prototype in a safe place before turning his attention back to Lara as he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

They lay on the bed together and having an idea that might ease the stiffness Lara could see in Jones' face, she instructed him to lie on his stomach.

Kneeling beside him, Lara began to massage his shoulders and neck again. The tension evaporated and Jones began to fully relax, the muscles between his neck and shoulders became more pliant and loose. He groaned with pleasure, as calm spread through his system. Jones gladly submitted to Lara's ministrations, feeling a sense of well-being and completion he had never felt before.

"Where did you ever learn to do that?" Jones said drowsily, allowing the need for sleep to take command of his physical sub-routines as they slowed in preparation for his rest.

"Do what?" Lara asked quietly as her hands continued their therapeutic manipulations down his back.

"Give massages."

"You'd be surprised at what talents I was programmed with," Lara said in a suggestive manner. "The Architect was _very_ thorough."

Some boyfriend I turned out to be, Jones mused wryly, the woman I love offers me a night of wild, uninhibited sex and I prefer to have a backrub. He stretched his long frame and yawned so deeply that it made his eyes water. He turned over onto his back and looked at Lara's face as she smiled at him.

"Lara, I'll have to take a rain check on your offer—I'm just so tired right now," he said sadly but Lara shook her head to silence him as she placed a finger on his lip.

"You don't have to say anything. Just go to sleep. You need it and more importantly, you've earned it."

"I need _you_," Jones corrected softly.

"Another time. Now get some sleep, that's an order," Lara said, playfully wagging her finger at him.

"Yes ma'am," he said meekly. "But only if you'll stay with me." Jones moved aside so that Lara could pull the blanket over them. He nestled his head against her breast and fell asleep.

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Jones awoke the next morning and upon hearing the shower running, he scrambled out of bed, hoping that he could catch Lara before she was finished and if he was lucky, he might be invited to join her in her ablutions.

"May I join you?" he asked nervously, hesitant to enter the shower enclosure in case she would not welcome his presence. The shower curtain was flung aside quickly and Lara stood before him, naked and unashamed. Her lips parted in a smile of such joy that Jones could only stare at her, enthralled that the desirable woman before him showed no sign of regret after their passionate lovemaking from the night before.

Once he was inside the tub with her, she reached for him, her hand slipping behind his neck to draw his head down for a kiss. Jones pulled back slightly and Lara frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"I—I haven't brushed my teeth this morning..."

"I don't mind. Besides, I know where your mouth has been," Lara said with a sly look. "But we can't stay too long in here; we both overslept and we have a lunch date with Celia and Brown. Turn around."

Jones obeyed and Lara proceeded to wash his back, making quick work of her task. With a pull of her hand, she turned him around and proceeded to wash the front of his body. In less than time than he would have liked, Jones was washed and other than shaving his face and brushing his teeth, he was done.

"You can give a man one hell of a sponge bath, Ms Rodgers. Is there any other special talents you possess that I should know about?"

"You'll see," Lara said with a mischievous look that made Jones raise his eyebrows.

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Lara and Jones were silent as they walked down to his car. The sphinx-like smile on her face roused his curiosity and Jones wondered what it meant. When both of them were seated in the car and after Jones had driven out of the garage, he discovered exactly what Lara had been smiling about.

Lara edged closer to him and it wasn't until her hand moved from his knee up his thigh did he give her a sidelong glance. Jones twitched when her hand touched his groin. As quietly as she could, Lara pulled down the zipper of his trousers and reached inside, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. The warmth that was radiating from her hand instantly aroused him, as an involuntary little groan escaped past his lips. Lara smiled to herself as she watched with amused fascination the mixed expressions of surprise and lust flash across Jones' chiselled features. Then, with a mischievous little smirk, Lara slid her hand out of Jones' pants and brought it up to her mouth. Next, like a sensuous serpent, her pink wet tongue slithered out from between her lips. With deliberate measured strokes, Lara licked the palm of her hand then brought it back down onto Jones' quivering, waiting member.

Without a word spoken between them, Lara began to slowly move her small, moistened hand up and down the full length of her lover's erect phallus. Soon enough she found the easy steady rhythm that elicited another hearty growl from deep within Jones's throat.

Casting a quick sideways glance at Lara, Jones began to ask, "Lara, what are you …?"

However, the index finger placed on his lips from Lara's free hand silenced him. "Shh. Just keep your eyes on the road, big boy, and enjoy the ride."

Jones was hard-pressed not to close his glazed-over green eyes and give in to the sensations Lara was making him feel. He tried his best to concentrate and obey the rules of the road, but it was getting more and more difficult for Jones to do anything other than focusing on the continued ministrations of Lara's hand.

Just when Jones thought he couldn't take much more, it wasn't until she lowered her head between his legs that he realized what her true intentions were. Oh my God, he thought, she is going to go down on me in broad daylight! Inhaling a deep shuddering breath, Jones waited for the undeniably pleasurable sensation of feeling Lara's mouth on him. Up until this point in their relationship, she had only done it twice. Because of his circumference, Lara had not been able to deep throat him very long, but the two times she had put her mouth on him had been bliss itself and the notion that she was going to try to go all the way made his head spin.

Jones could not suppress a moan of desire when Lara enveloped his member with her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head of his penis. He clutched the steering wheel with a death-grip that turned his knuckles white with the effort of concentrating on avoiding a collision with either pedestrians or traffic and keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"Lara, I have to pull over, I can't—" He was unable to say anything else as Lara proceeded to apply suction, and the sensation was threatening to send his circuits into overload. Hastily, he pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the road. His entire body began to tremble and shake as Lara's tongue and mouth were slowly but surely threatening to drive him insane.

Lara felt Jones' fingers bury themselves in her hair. Faster and faster she went, gliding her tongue from the base of his rock-hard penis to the engorged bulbous tip. Next, she spiralled down all the way to his scrotum and began to suck on the skin, stimulating the testes encased within.

Jones, meanwhile, was completely and utterly enraptured by the supreme pleasure of it all. He was amazed by the intensity of Lara's need to please him and the ferocity of his own desire. Never had he experienced such an intimate act performed on him in such a public venue, and if it had been any other woman, he would have put an end to it right then and there. But this was Lara, _his_ Lara, and with her, it just felt so good, so right. The touch of her lips and tongue on his sac was driving him wild, causing him to pant and grunt like a ferocious beast. What enhanced his pleasure even more was the knowledge that Lara was enjoying this as much as he was. Lara was actually revelling in the fact that she could gratify her man in such a manner; it was empowering and liberating.

I will definitely have to do this again, she thought, for he is enjoying it so much and it is the least I can do for everything he has done to please me whenever we are in bed together. I don't know what it is like to eat out a woman but it cannot be easy and I have never heard the slightest complaint from Jones, nor has he ever hesitated to perform cunnilingus on me. He knows I love it and in his mind, that is all that matters. Well, now it is _my_ turn to please him.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Jones threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. His orgasm was only a few strokes away and Lara exhibited no objection when Jones thrust himself inside of her mouth as far as he wanted. With pleasant surprise, she discovered that she was able to easily accommodate his entire length and width without any difficulty whatsoever.

Then suddenly as she moved back up to surround his cock once more in the tight little sheath of her hot wet mouth, Jones felt the familiar build up in his groin as his scrotum tightened and his phallus began to spasm uncontrollably. Before Lara could properly put him back into her oral cavity, Jones' orgasm was already upon him. Quickly, she greedily swallowed the length of his girth to the hilt, allowing his warm salty ejaculate to slide down her gullet. As Jones moaned out her name and proclaimed his love for her, Lara silently rejoiced in the knowledge that she had just given her lover the best oral sex he had ever had.

His penis continued to pulsate for a long time afterward until it became unbearably sensitive to the touch and Jones hoarsely informed her that it was enough. He flinched when Lara withdrew her mouth and groaned when she gently tucked his now-flaccid member back into his shorts and carefully zipped his trousers up.

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"Now it's your turn," he said with a smile that made Lara gulp as he pulled her into the backseat. He chuckled smugly as he felt her nipples harden as he caressed her breasts through her clothing. Dipping his head lower, he nibbled playfully at the tender flesh between her neck and shoulder and Lara unashamedly arched her neck as she moaned, inviting him to taste her flesh.

"So how many other women have you done this to in the back seat?" Lara asked when Jones allowed her to take a breath.

"None. You're the first."

"Ooh, so I suppose you could say that we are "christening" the back seat?" lara said with a lustful tone.

"You might say that," Jones said, his eyes smouldering with passion. "Now lie back and let me return to business," he whispered hoarsely.

Without any further ado, Jones ripped her blouse open, sending buttons flying in every direction. His eyes smouldered at the sight of her ample bosom encased in her sheer, harlot-red bra and inadvertently Lara gulped at the look in his eyes; the animalistic lust she had aroused in him shone undeniably from his devouring gaze. He pushed aside the lacy barrier of her brassiere and suckled her taut nipple, taking enjoyment in his ability to drive Lara wild with his ministrations.

Now it was Lara who was making animal noises and Jones could not help feeling pleased. A desire was growing inside of him to return the ecstasy that Lara had given him; he wanted to hear her moan and feel her body shudder as she experienced her orgasm. He wanted to know without a doubt that he was giving her pleasure as freely and unselfishly as she had bestowed it to him not long before.

His hand slid beneath her skirt and Lara groaned when his large, deft fingers hiked it up above her hips and began to stroke her moist, eager womanhood through the crotch of her panties.

"I'm going to taste you, Lara," he said huskily, his voice barely a whisper.

"You don't have to do that," Lara responded hoarsely, caressing his face. "Just having you touch me is enough."

"Not for me, it isn't," Jones stated firmly. "Don't you like it when I do this to you?"

Lara whimpered in response as his lips travelled down her belly and she unconsciously parted her legs in expectation of feeling his lips against her folds. Jones had his answer and needed no further encouragement. However, Jones did not comply immediately with her unspoken request. Instead, he suckled her clit through her underwear, revelling in the musky taste and smell of Lara's most intimate flesh, separated as his mouth was from her by a thin layer of cotton. He smiled to himself when he pulled away from Lara and heard her moan of disappointment as he did so.

"Do you still want me to just touch you, or would you prefer something else?" he asked slyly as he pushed aside the barrier of her panties with one finger, teasing apart her wet folds as Lara moaned. "Tell me what you _really_ want."

"Please, _please_ eat me," Lara beseeched him, her hips writhing and twisting in anticipation.

"Your wish is my command," Jones whispered and Lara squealed when his hot breath skimmed over the surface of her outer genitalia. Lara clutched at his hair and begged him not to stop when his tongue slid along the entire length of her slit. Even that cursory action revealed how hard her clitoris had become. Accordingly, when he latched onto that hard bundle of nerves that lay at the centre of every woman's femininity, Lara cried out as the exquisite movements of Jones' hot, wet tongue became almost too much to bear.

The sound of him eagerly slurping up her intimate juices only added to her pleasure, which was increasing with each passing second. She parted her legs even further when he gently but deeply thrust one, then two and finally three fingers inside of her. Lara screamed as her climax flowed through her, the intensity of it making her toes tingle and curl. Wave after wave of pleasure that crossed the border into pain shot through her until her system could take no more and she passed out.

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Jones raised his head from between Lara's legs and the question he had been about to ask froze in his throat as he looked at her. Lara's face was white, her eyes half-closed and she was not moving. With fear flooding through him, Jones frantically grabbed her shoulders in his hands and shook her hard but to no avail. Lara did not wake up. In desperation and with cold sweat dripping from his brow and upper lip, Jones slapped her face in an attempt to get a reaction of some sort but Lara still did not respond.

"C'mon Lara, wake up!" Jones whispered, trying desperately to think of something he could do to revive her and bring her back to him. His normally stoic and impassive face crumpled, his mouth twitching in anguish at the thought he had lost her and he held her unresponsive body in his arms. "Don't leave me!"

"I'm not going anywhere," came Lara's weak reply.

"Lara! Are you all right?" Jones asked, wrapping his long arms around her with a possessive strength that made her gasp and wince. Apologizing profusely, he eased his iron embrace and held her more gently. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, Jones, but don't ask for an explanation about what happened right now, I'm kind of tired and need to reboot a few files, that's all. I'll be perfectly all right soon. I just need a few minutes," Lara said faintly.

She drew his head down until it rested on her breast and held him with the same tenderness as a mother would comfort a hurt child. Her jaw ached from where Jones had slapped her but she said nothing. Jones had been upset enough as it was when he thought he had killed her and he did not need to be reminded of his actions just yet in trying to resuscitate her. He would see her marked cheek for himself soon enough and Lara judged it cruel in the extreme to mention it now.

She stroked his hair lovingly and kissed his forehead, cradling him in her arms until she felt some strength returning to her body. A small smile curved Lara's mouth. If sex for the third time with Jones was enough to make me faint because of the intense pleasure he made me feel, what will it be like between after we've had some practice?

When she was feeling stronger, Lara sat up and straightened her clothing. "I'm going to have to pick up a blouse from my place before we meet Celia and Brown for lunch," she said with a mischievous tone. Her smile faded when she saw that Jones was not looking at her--he seemed determined not to meet her gaze and Lara was hurt. He reached into his pocket, took out a handkerchief, and proceeded to wipe all evidence of his activity with Lara off his face.

"We should go now, Lara or we are going to be late," Jones said, opening the back door so Lara could get out. Jones' voice had all the warmth of an ice cube and when he saw the hurt look on Lara's face, it took all of his will power not to take her in his arms and say how sorry he was for the cruel tone he had just used with her.

Once they were on their way again after a brief stop at Lara's apartment so she could pick up a different blouse, Lara merely stared out of the window, wondering how a day that had started out with such promise had spiralled downward while Jones focused on driving.

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Forcing a smile on her face, Lara and Jones entered the bar and grill where Celia and Brown were waiting for them. Sharp-eyed as always, Celia noticed Lara's sad and distracted gaze. She glanced sidelong at Brown and Jones who were deep in discussion and Celia stood up, indicating with a jerk of her head that she wanted to sit at the bar with Lara.

Lara followed willingly but was hard-pressed not to burst into tears.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Celia asked.

"I—I can't…" Lara mumbled.

Celia sighed and leaned closer. "OK kiddo, I'll back off for now; but you've been living at Jones' apartment for two days now. Can I assume some of that time was fun?"

Lara bent her head and tried not to smile. "It was wonderful being with Jones all the time, Celia. Seeing him all the time…"

"…sleeping with him most of the time," Celia said with a knowing gleam in her eye.

"Well, not _all_ the time," Lara said, glancing at her friend. She frowned as she watched Jones sit at the bar and order a drink. After a few moments, Brown sat beside his friend. Jones stared morosely into his glass of beer, not meeting Brown's gaze. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and handed the small electronic device to the young agent.

"I finished it. It will pick up and record every sound within a 5-yard area. Once we plant this in Montgomery, all we have to do is wait until Smith opens his big mouth and we'll have him."

"Good work, Jones," Brown commended. "Now will you tell me what's got you so depressed? You've just spent two whole days with Lara, yet you seem sad. What's going on?"

Jones sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Before we came here, Lara and I had sex in the car and I hurt her. She even fainted at the end of it! I should have been more careful! Maybe everyone is right; I am nothing but a brainless brute that doesn't know my own strength. If I'm not careful, I could really hurt Lara. If that happened, I couldn't live with myself. Maybe it would be better if we break up, I don't know. Lara deserves a man who is gentle and considerate, not a clumsy beast like me." The thought of losing Lara caused a sharp pain that wrenched his emotional processors.

"Whoa, hold on there, pal," Brown said, laying his hand on his friend's arm. "Don't go rushing into acting on that."

"Why not?" Jones asked, his voice strained. "I mean, I could have really hurt her today, Brown! I have to consider that!" With an effort, Jones lowered his voice and forced himself to calm down. "The last two days with her have been wonderful! I mean, yes, I couldn't stay with her during the day, but knowing she was at home waiting for me is what kept me going! I loved the idea of knowing that I finally had _someone to come home to._ Do you know what that meant to me?"

Brown nodded his head as he listened. He had been friends with Jones long enough to have noticed his abhorrent feelings of loneliness and detestation at his solitary existence. Brown understood these feelings all too well for he too had almost given up on finding a woman who could give him a sense of completeness; a reason for being. But now Jones wanted to throw all his happiness away, Brown thought, and if he does that, he will regret it for the rest of his life. I have to try to get him to change his mind.

"Jones, listen to me: don't act on your feelings. Don't do anything in haste. Will you promise me to think this over?"

Easy for you to say, Jones thought. You weren't the one who nearly killed the woman you love by having sex with her. He drank his beer and ordered another. Brown turned away and went back to the table where Lara and Celia sat.

"Lara, I think you should talk to Jones about this morning," he said very quietly, his lips barely moving. He was staring at Celia as he said it; in case Jones looked over, all he would see was Brown speaking with Celia.

"Why? What did he say?" Lara asked, instantly worried. She blushed when she realized that Jones had told his friend what happened in the car.

Brown fidgeted. He did not want to betray his friend's confidence, but what Jones had in mind would affect Lara the most and she had a right to know what was in the wind.

During the last two months, he had come to know Lara and he liked her a lot. If there was any way possible to prevent Jones from making what Brown knew would be the biggest mistake of his life, he would do it. He patted Lara's arm and turned his attention back to Celia. Lara straightened her shoulders and went over to Jones.

"We need to talk," Lara said.

"Did Brown say anything to you?" Jones asked suspiciously.

"No," Lara said, hoping that Jones would never learn that his friend had indeed betrayed his confidence. "But I've watched you all through lunch; something is on your mind and I know it has something to do with—with what happened between us."

Jones could not meet her gaze. "Yes, it does. I could have really hurt you, Lara. I can't risk us being together and hurting you again."

Lara placed her hand on his arm and laid her hand over his. "You didn't hurt me, Jones."

"Yes I did! You fainted!"

"What you gave me was the best damn sex I've ever had and caused my circuits to go into overload, that's all. Never in my life has anyone given me such pleasure as you did today. You've made me realize what intimacy is supposed to be like: the giving and receiving of pleasure. Why? Are you breaking up with me because of this morning?" Lara asked, her face frozen with shock.

Jones could not look at her as he answered her. "I think it is for the best that we stop seeing one another, Lara."

All the breath went out of Lara's body and she felt like she was going to faint. She took a few deep breaths and managed to steady herself.

"If you want me to leave, then all you have to do is say so," Lara said, as she tried to keep her lips from twitching. "You look me in the eye and say that. If you can do that, then…then I will turn around and leave and you will never see me again."

Jones felt like the bottom of his world had fallen out, leaving him adrift and bereft. He was afraid to open his mouth for fear of what might come out. He did not want Lara to leave him, but on the other hand, he did not want her to stay, for fear of hurting her again, either physically or emotionally.

Lara blinked back tears as she waited for him to answer. When he did not respond, she slowly turned away and started to walk to the table the two couples had shared and took her purse, moving like an automaton. Celia was about to make a remark when she saw Lara's face.

"What's wrong? Where are you going?"

With an effort, Lara focused on the worried face of her best friend and chose to ignore the first question but answer the second.

"Home. I'm going home."

"What? You can't go back to your place! What if Smith…" Celia widened her eyes when the true meaning of Lara's words became clear. Lara was not referring to her apartment, but her home and native land. Canada.

"Why the hell are you going back? You live here now!" Celia said.

"I can't stay here anymore. I'm sorry, Celia, but I have to go."

Without another word, Lara left, and the sound of the door closing behind her reverberated through Jones' bulky frame and shook him from head to foot like a thunderclap. He turned his head and stared at the door, desperate to see Lara come through it and back into his arms but she did not.

She was leaving behind everything in the Matrix that meant anything to her. The only thing she could concentrate on was putting one foot in front of the other for she knew if she stopped moving and started thinking, the realization of that she would never see Jones again would break her already broken heart beyond repair.

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Celia and Brown sat there in shock, simply staring at one another. What had gone so horribly wrong between Lara and Jones neither of them could fathom.

"I'm going after her," Celia declared, surging out of her seat. The bright sunlight streamed into the restaurant and Jones looked up as the door opened, hoping that Lara had come back but when he saw Celia, his face fell. Not Lara.

"I don't know where she could have gotten to," Celia said breathlessly to Brown. "She wasn't outside. There isn't a trace of her anywhere." Narrowing her eyes, she met the gaze of Jones.

Storming towards him, Celia was in a bad mood. Brown saw the look on her face and decided to go with her; when she was as angry as she was now, the possibility of saying or doing something she would regret later was extremely high as Celia had a habit of acting before thinking. And if the look on her face was any indication, Jones was in for it.

"You jerk," Celia said, "What the hell did you say to her to make her leave?"

"I—I…"

"I—I—I what? Don't just stand there, tell me!"

Brown laid a conciliatory hand on Celia's waist but she shook it off angrily. "Let me be, Brown!"

"No, Celia, I won't," Brown responded. "Jones, what happened?"

Jones sighed and closed his eyes. "We broke up." He cringed when he heard Celia's sound of expostulation and waited for her to continue her diatribe against him, but Brown's presence tempered her anger.

"How do you feel, Jones?" Celia asked and both men looked quizzically first at each other then at her.

"What do you mean?"

"How do you feel?" Celia repeated. "Sad? Empty? Depressed?"

"All of the above."

"Get used to it, you big…" Celia had been about to call him a name but stopped just in time. "What you feel now, the pain, the loneliness and whatever else, is what you will be feeling for the rest of your life if you don't go after her."

"But…"

"Lara told me what happened in the car, Jones," Celia said. "And let me just tell you a little something about women: an intense orgasm like the one that Lara had never killed a woman. What you gave her was the best sexual experience she has ever had."

Jones pondered her words but said nothing. Celia uttered a scoff and turned away. "C'mon Brown, if he wants to be alone and live his life in a cold and empty bed, then let him."

Brown followed and gave his friend a parting glance and shake of the head. "If you don't' go after her, you'll regret it, Jones. There is still time to take action; if you wait too long, all trace of her will be gone and you will never find her. But if you do decide to look for her, I'll be glad to be your wingman." Then he, too, turned his back and left.

Determination to find Lara flowed through Jones and he stood up. With long, hurried strides, he left the restaurant.

Celia nodded in satisfaction. "I knew it! He's going after her. Good!"

Brown nudged Celia playfully. "How come you've never fainted when we make love?" He tried hard not to smile when Celia focused her gaze on the ceiling and began whistling a little tune, pretending she didn't hear him.

The door opened again and Jones poked his head in. "Aren't you coming, Brown? I'm going to need all the help I can get."

"You can be sure we will continue this discussion later, Ms. Alvarez, in a more private and intimate setting. Then we will see who faints," Brown said, winking at her suggestively and giving her a look that made her knees turn into water in anticipation.

Never a woman to let a man have the last word if she could possibly help it, Celia retorted, "Promises, promises, Agent Brown! Now get out of here, Jones needs you."

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Once outside the restaurant, Lara started walking. The grief of never seeing Jones again made her cry and she stumbled along, not caring or knowing where she was going. A bullet in the head now be a mercy killing, Lara thought, and for a moment considered returning to either her apartment or the Agency Building. If I am lucky, Smith would be able to oblige me and put me out of my misery for nothing could make me feel worse than I already do, Lara thought miserably.

Continuing to walk, she abandoned the idea for she knew that if she died, there would be no one left to care for her mother back in Canada. An idea occurred to her and Lara jerked her head up and resolutely started walking toward the nearest place that might offer the opportunity of catching a cab.

Luckily, Lara managed to hail a cab two blocks from the restaurant and stated where she wished to be taken. I may be heading home but I am leaving behind everything I care about, Lara thought numbly looking out of the cab window as she went to the airport. Her eyes glistened. I didn't even get to tell Celia a proper goodbye, Lara realized sadly and tried to blink her tears away.

The cab driver heard a sniffle coming from the back seat and stole a look at her passenger "It's always hard leaving someone you love behind, isn't it, honey?" she asked kindly.

"I'm leaving my whole life behind," Lara said. "Everything. And I'm never coming back," she stated resolutely.

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"She can't have gone far," Jones said to Brown. "She was only out here for a couple of minutes at the most. Maybe she caught a cab?"

"Check the airports, bus terminals and train stations," Brown suggested. "Put an APB out on her. We can use the authority that was given to us and stop all methods of quick transportation from leaving the city, starting with the airport."

Picking up the nearest phone, Brown issued his orders brusquely to the chief of security of the airport. "Well, I've halted every departing flight until you, me and the police can search every plane." He patted his large friend's shoulder. "Don't worry Jones, we'll find her; she can't have gone _that_ far so quickly."

"I hope you are right," Jones said, as the two friends hurried out the door to the waiting police car. With lights blazing and the siren blaring, the car that had the two agents in it sped through traffic with no trouble. Jones and Brown bailed out of the car before it had even stopped moving, running wildly for the entrance of the terminal.

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"She could be anywhere," Jones said, trying to hide his exasperation, his optic sensors scanning for Lara in the throng of people scurrying back and forth.

"I don't think so," said Brown. "Remember what she said in the restaurant: she was going home. And home to her is Canada. That narrows our search significantly."

The director of terminal security entered a search parameter on the computer. "I found her! Ms. Lara Rodgers is on Flight 303 to Toronto but it leaves in 5 minutes from Gate 10. That is in the new wing. You'll have to hustle if you want to make it."

"I can do it," Jones said. "Meanwhile, inform the plane that they cannot take off yet. Make any excuse you have to but stop them from leaving the tarmac." He turned and ran towards the exit of the control centre.

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The moment her flight to Toronto was announced, Lara stood up and entered the gate. No tagging of her belongings was required because all she carried was her purse.

She was directed to her seat and she watched as the other passengers began to board. Resisting the urge to look out of the window at Mega City, Lara instead focused her gaze on the back of the seat in front of her.

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Jones rushed onto the walkway and past the flight attendants. When they tried to prevent him from entering the plane, he flashed his Agency badge, making certain they were aware he was armed and accordingly, they gave him no more trouble. He inquired where Lara had been seated, and brusquely thanked them when they had checked their passenger manifest, providing him with her seat number.

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"Lara?" Jones asked, hardly daring to believe that he had made it in time.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. She tried to suppress the feeling of joy upon seeing him again and for the most part, she had succeeded except for the glow in her eyes.

"I came to say that I am sorry for what I said to you." Jones was aware that other passengers were turning around, craning in their seats to see and hear the exchange between himself and Lara but he ignored the whispers and averted glances. He met the gaze of the most inquisitive of Lara's co-passengers and gave each of them his most intimidating glare. Every one of them gulped and turned their attention elsewhere. But if they couldn't watch, they could still hear. Having fifteen extra pairs of ears listening to every word he and Lara said did not please Jones, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

"Please don't go, Lara."

"Why not? You've hurt me twice, Jones. Why should I stay and suffer for a third time?"

"Because I promise not to do it ever again and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"What are you saying?"

"Damn it--I didn't want to do this in such a public place, but I don't care about that." He took a deep breath and held Lara's hand in his own. There were subdued gasps and murmurings from Lara's co-passengers when Jones lowered his tall frame on one knee. "Lara, will you marry me?"

"Oh!" Lara gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. The plane got very quiet as everyone who had heard Jones make his proposal from this highly unorthodox location waited to see what Lara's response would be.

"Is that a yes?" Jones asked, a small hopeful smile forming around his mouth. Lara could not speak but she nodded her head and threw herself into Jones' waiting embrace to the delight of the onlookers who clapped and cheered enthusiastically.


	15. I Heard the Good News

I Heard the News

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Matrix movies, its characters and anything else.

A/N: To those who like this story, I realize it has been a long time since it's been updated, but it has been pretty much abandoned at this point. However, I am not ruling out the possibility of future chapters; I just don't know when that will happen.

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"I have a few things to do at the office today," Jones said, wrapping his arms around Lara and holding her close to him. "But I'll be back as soon as I can and then we can shop for an engagement ring."

Lara smiled and nestled her head against her fiancé's shoulder, sighing contentedly. "Pinch me, Jones," Lara said as she smiled. "Pinch me so that I know this isn't a dream."

"This isn't a dream, Lara," Jones said softly as he stared into her eyes. "We really are going to get married. You said yes, remember? I am going to hold you to that. In fact, I'm going to hold you every night for the rest of our lives."

"You'd better go," Lara said as she fastened his watch onto his wrist. "Besides, I have to call Celia and tell her the good news--she and Brown don't know about our engagement yet." She blushed and giggled when she remembered what had happened between them after Jones' impromptu and unorthodox marriage proposal on a plane full of gawking witnesses.

_On the ride from the airport, he squeezed Lara's hand and was relieved when she returned the gesture. Back at Jones' apartment, he and Lara stood staring at one another; each one afraid to say anything that might spoil this moment. Jones swallowed nervously as the silence between them deepened._

_Lara's arms came around his waist and she held him. "Jones, I—" Her fiancé put his finger over her lip to prevent her from saying anything else._

"_No, Lara. Don't say anything. I meant everything I said to you on the plane. I will never hurt you again nor will I allow anyone else to. Ever."_

_Without another word between them, they reached for one another hungrily. With their lips still locked in a passionate kiss, Jones backed Lara into the kitchen and effortlessly hoisted her up until she was sitting on the countertop. Standing between her spread knees, he grabbed Lara by the hips and ground his body against hers. Owing to the huge difference in their heights, each of them knew that Jones' plan on copulating with Lara as she sat on the countertop would not work._

"_Perhaps the bedroom?" Lara suggested shyly and Jones needed no further encouragement. Lara wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her into the bedroom._

_Jones did not head for the bed. Instead, he pushed Lara until her back was against the door with his weight keeping her in place. A long-ago daydream of Jones possessing her like this raced through Lara's mind. In her fantasy, Jones had pushed her against a wall and slid his hands upward along her thighs. Just like he was doing now. Lara shivered with anticipation._

_Sheer mischievousness took hold of Lara. "I already told you, Agent Jones, I don't have any information."_

_Jones caught on and gladly played along with her game of 'Female Suspect About to Be Interrogated.' _

"_That may be the case, but I still have to follow proper procedure and search for any hidden weapons you might be carrying."_

"_Uh-oh," Lara said and pressed her body hard against her future husband. "Will this involve any body cavity searches?"_

_Jones raised his eyebrow and leered at Lara as he fondled her breasts. "It seems to me that you just might have possession _two_ unauthorized weapons in your blouse, Ms. Rodgers. I have no choice but to investigate further."_

_With a growl of lust, Jones ripped Lara's blouse open, sending buttons in all directions. In her haste to make love with her new fiancé, Lara's fingers seemed to have lost all of their dexterity as she tried to remove Jones' tie but her constantly fumbling fingers only succeeded in making her task more difficult. Exasperated, she gave up but reciprocated as best she could by tearing Jones' shirt open, desperate to feel his skin against her own._

"_Now I'll have to charge you with assaulting an officer of the law _and_ resisting arrest. The penalties will be very severe."_

"_Whatever shall poor little me do?" Lara said as she batted her eyes in her best Scarlett O'Hara imitation. "It's my first time being interrogated. Be gentle with me?"_

"_Not tonight," Jones said as he bit down on her lips as he kissed her hard. Lara revelled in this new aspect of Jones' character revealing itself. Gone was the stoic and impassive man she thought she knew: in its place was a fully aroused male, barely staying in control of his sexual desires. Here was Jones at his most primal. In other words, he wanted nothing more than to fuck her. Hard and fast._

_With one hand under Lara's buttocks to keep her tight against the door, the other was busily trying to undo his belt and unzip his trousers. Lara could not help but giggle as he cursed when he was unsuccessful in either task. _

"_Is that a Desert Eagle in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?" Lara said coyly._

"_See for yourself," he ordered, releasing Lara and she quickly went to her knees before him. Jones groaned when he felt her mouth open the button of his fly. Very slowly, she drew the zipper of his pants down with her teeth. Lara chuckled smugly when he moaned as her mouth succeeded in pulling down his shorts enough so that she could nuzzle his groin, her nose buried deep in the coarse hair around his dick. She savoured the masculine scent of his skin and sweat. The sensation of feeling her hot breath against his now-fully erect member made Jones' head spin. _

_When he could stand no more, he pulled Lara to her feet, pushed her over onto the bed, and straddled her before she could try to escape, letting her know clearly who was in charge. Lara did not mind in the least--she knew that Jones would never purposefully hurt her and some part of her nature took pleasure in being dominated and controlled._

"_That's quite an impressive weapon," Lara said as she could not help but stare at Jones' massive organ._

"_It makes my job of intimidating whorish little suspects like you much easier," he said smugly. His face fell when he saw the hurt expression on Lara's face. He cursed himself for saying that when he remembered the day when Lara told him about her rape from Smith. He had called a whore too. "Honey, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry…"_

"_It's okay, Jones. Just don't say it again, please?" Jones nodded and Lara was determined that Smith was never going to come between them ever again. "But I have to admit that I'm very worried of seeing what it is capable of," Lara said in convincing wide-eyed innocence, still playing her role, "I certainly would be very afraid if you should want to put it in any part of my body."_

"_As well you should. I must start the physical examination immediately. Open your mouth and take me inside so I can ascertain whether or not you are hiding something."_

_Lara lay back, enjoying the view of her half-undressed lover with his erect manhood just inches from her face. Jones inched himself forward and Lara eagerly took him into her mouth, her hands cupping his buttocks to draw him closer. After a few delicious moments of feeling him in her mouth and taking him in as far as she could, Lara's tongue swirled around the massive head of his penis as she began to apply suction. Jones pulled away abruptly, knowing that if he did not, it would not take much effort on Lara's part to bring him to orgasm._

"_No," he said as he pulled his member from her mouth. "Everything appears to be in order." Jones did not bother to take off his remaining clothing. He moved down Lara's body until his mouth was almost touching her outer folds._

"_Now I must see if you are hiding anything in here," he said. Lara arched her back and gasped as he inserted one finger into her wet hole. The woman beneath him moved her hips so that she began to counterthrust against his hand, making him go deeper. He thoroughly enjoyed feeling the heat of Lara's tight pussy engulf his finger like a glove. Lara was squirming harder and he allowed himself to smile for a moment before lowering his face between her legs again. Lara moaned as he licked and nibbled her sensitive flesh, deliberately ignoring her swollen clit._

"_Hmm," Jones mused thoughtfully after he came up for air. He removed his finger and replaced it with his tongue, making Lara shriek with pleasure. "It seems that I cannot reach very far. I'll have to use something else to probe you as deep as I would like." _

_Lara moaned and said something inarticulate and it was all Jones could do not to break into a malevolent cackle at her excruciatingly high level of arousal._

"_Well?" Jones asked. "Do you have anything to add to this interrogation? Some vital bit of information you wish to tell me or shall I continue?" _

_Thoroughly enjoying himself, Jones slid his tongue along her slit and chuckled to himself as Lara's body writhed and squirmed in an attempt to get his mouth closer to her pulsating clit. Lara's hands grabbed him by the hair to keep his mouth and head where she wanted as his tongue brought her closer to her orgasm. Jones winced as he jerked his head out of her grasp, certain that he had left quite a few hairs between her fingers. But he was not finished tormenting her._

"_Are you sure you don't have anything to ask of me? I won't know until you do."_

"_Oh God, Agent Jones," she moaned, still playing her role as the reluctant suspect. "I am going to come soon! Please don't stop!"_

_Smiling wolfishly, Jones did exactly the opposite. "Tell me what you want."_

"_I want you to eat me," Lara panted._

"_And what information will you give me if I do as you ask? Tell me what I want to hear or I will cease and desist."_

_Ceasing and desisting was the last thing Lara wanted Jones to do at that moment. "I've been so bad, so dirty, Agent Jones. I deserved to be fucked into the floor distracting you from your duties and teasing you like I've doing." _

"_That is very, very true, Ms. Rodgers," Jones said sternly. "And I intend on punishing you for everything you've done to take my mind off of work." He put his tongue, fingers and lips to their best advantage. Jones held Lara on the cusp of an orgasm for the next twenty-five minutes. The bed beneath her was soaked from her juices and sweat._

_When he decided she had had enough, Jones thrust two fingers inside of her pussy and gave her clit a few skilful swipes across her clit and Lara came._

_To prevent his full weight from bearing down on Lara and possibly causing her discomfort, Jones positioned himself so that some of his heaviness rested on his elbows. Jones began thrusting into Lara and any thought of apprehension was immediately purged from her mind as she felt him move inside of her. She felt herself being filled; her vagina stretching easily to accommodate his enormous size and Lara groaned with the sheer pleasure of being intimate with the man who would soon become her husband._

_Instinctively, she began to counterthrust against him and arched her back as his lips nibbled the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulders. _

"_You _have_ been bad, the future Mrs. Jones," he murmured, his green eyes locked on the hazel ones of his fiancée. "You are incorrigible and I wouldn't have you any other way."_

_In the throes of her passionate climax, Lara's hands snaked inside Jones' shirt and raked her nails down his chest leaving long scratches. Whether it was a subconscious desire to hurt him for breaking up with her or whether it was because of her overwhelming lust, Lara would never know. When they were showering together later, she apologized about the marks she had left on his body, but Jones shrugged it off by saying that while an engagement ring was her symbol of bondage, the scratches on his chest were his._

Lara's mind was brought to the present when Jones gently chucked her under the chin. "I'll tell Brown about our engagement when I get to work."

He gave Lara a kiss and headed out the door. Lara was about to tidy up the kitchen when she noticed that Jones had left his car keys on the counter. A spark of sheer playfulness overcame her and Lara hastily undressed, taking off her jeans and tee shirt and exchanging it for Jones' white shirt that she had taken to wearing at night since she began living with him.

By the time she was done, Lara heard a knock at the door. Without checking the peephole, she threw the door open wide and struck a seductive pose against the doorframe while twirling Jones' car keys around her index finger. "Back for more or did you forget something, lover?" she inquired with a sultry tone. "Oh my God!" she shrieked as she saw it was Smith standing in front of her.

"I can't tell you by saying how many times I've heard that exact same statement shrieked in my ear from the many sexual conquests I've had during my lifetime, but I do appreciate the reference from you." Smith smirked and he removed his dark sunglasses, running his gaze over Lara. His eyebrow rose in approval when he saw that Lara was wearing nothing but Jones' agent-issued white shirt. To make matters even more intriguing, there were no buttons holding her garment fastened. His smile broadened as Lara clutched her shirt closed.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard the news about your engagement and came to offer my congratulations," Smith replied smoothly. His eyes shifted to the bare third finger of her left hand. "I see Jones hasn't purchased an engagement ring yet. I suppose you will have to wait until Wal-Mart opens before you can get one."

"Fuck you, asshole," Lara snapped, ignoring Smith's derogatory remarks about the state of Jones' finances. "Now if you don't mind…"

"Not yet," Smith said, preventing her from closing the door by placing a broad foot between the door and the frame. "I came here to say something else." When Lara did not rise to the bait and proceeded to only coolly stare at him—periodically slamming the door onto his foot in an attempt to get her unwelcome visitor to leave--Smith tried another approach.

"No doubt you intend to bear the big oaf's babies, do you not?" This time his statement had the desired effect—Lara could not help herself from inquiring what he meant.

"A baker's dozen, Smith, not that it is any of your business. Why? Do you care?"

"I don't. I wouldn't count on holding his children in your arms or nursing them at those ample breasts anytime soon."

"What are you talking about?"

"What I mean is my two underlings cannot father any offspring. Of the three of us, that privilege has been granted to me. Jones and Brown are only shooting blanks."

When the implications of his statement became clear, Lara's face lost all colour and she leaned against the doorframe in an effort to steady herself.

"_What?!_"

Lara would never tell anyone, but it had long been her hope of giving birth to Jones' children. If Smith was telling the truth for once, that particular dream would never come to fruition. Lara blinked away the urge to cry and listened to what the man she hated most in the Matrix had to say.

"Now that I have your complete attention, I shall explain further. You see, our mother and father decided at the time of my creation that in order to breed superior programs for inclusion into the Matrix, the alpha male of the agents—namely myself—should be the only one capable of procreating. So you see, Lara," Smith said, edging closer, "if you wish to be a mother of an agent's child, _I _am your only viable choice for that's baby's father."

"I don't believe you," Lara said hoarsely, her hand clenched into a fist over her heart. It can't be true; Smith is lying. He _has_ to be. _But what if he isn't,_ a small part of Lara's mind argued. What if he is telling the truth?

"I don't care if you believe me or not. I just thought you should know the true facts of the matter," Smith shrugged carelessly. He gave Lara an evil leer, raking his gaze over her semi-clad body. "If after years of marriage with Jones, you still yearn to be a mother, come to me and I will be happy to assist you in realizing your dream."

Lara raised her chin and stared Smith in the face. "I'd rather be dead than give birth to any _thing_ of yours!" She watched as rage turned Smith's eyes into orbs of ice-cold steel.

"You little bitch; you'll be crawling on your hands and knees begging for my forgiveness by the time I'm done with you!" He raised his hand to strike Lara for her cruel remark but suddenly felt himself being yanked backward and held against the wall with his arm twisted behind his back.

"That's my future wife you were going to hit, Smith," Jones said, his anger all the more formidable because of his calm demeanour. "Lara? Are you alright?" Jones asked anxiously as he tightened his grip on Smith to prevent his weasel of a supervisor from slithering away.

"I'm OK."

"Close the door, lock it behind you and do not, _do not_ open it until I tell you to, do you understand?" Jones demanded.

"No Jones, you don't understand! But he said…I need to know more, I can't just--"

"Don't argue with me, just do it!" Jones snapped and without a word, Lara obeyed. When Jones heard the deadbolt slide home, he turned his attention back to Smith. "You and I have business to discuss, Smith, and I think the garage is the perfect place. Now move."

It didn't take the two agents long to reach the underground parking garage located directly below Agent Jones' apartment building. Smith had his hands raised in mock surrender as he allowed his subordinate to push him out of the service elevator into the concrete maze of the garage's lower levels.

At this time of the day, the garage was almost completely deserted save for the few vehicles parked here and there. For the time being, Jones had all the privacy he needed to finally confront a superior who had abused the power entrusted to him for far too long.

Clamping his large hands onto Smith's slim shoulders, Agent Jones roughly turned the lead agent around to face him. When he saw the arrogant leer on Agent Smith's face, Jones' own features twisted up into a scowl of anger and hate.

With no desire to mince words with the smug, arrogant Smith, Jones went straight to the heart of the matter. "What are you doing here, Smith, and what did you say to Lara?"

Smith shrugged himself out of Jones' hold on him, and then sidestepped away from his reach before giving his reply. "I told her nothing but the truth. I heard the good news about your engagement to Ms. Rodgers." Smith's tone sounded innocent and friendly, much too friendly for Jones' liking, for he knew better. "I only dropped by to congratulate the both of you and to offer my _services_. Ask her—she'll tell you. As a matter of fact, she tried to before you ordered her to obey you and close the door."

Smith's emphasis on the last sentence of his statement did not bode well with Agent Jones. His green eyes narrowed suspiciously behind the dark barrier of his sunglasses, as he balled up his hands into tightly clenched fists.

"We do not require anything from you! Now if you don't want things to get physical between us, Agent Smith, I suggest that you leave these premises immediately and _never_ come back!" At this point, Jones was seething with rage, but he tried to contain it as best he could.

Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, Smith scoffed at his underling. "Is that a threat, Agent Jones? I hope for your sake it wasn't! Have you forgotten to whom you are speaking? To _I_ am the lead agent and your superior!

"It's obvious that you've had a lapse in memory or you wouldn't dare be so insubordinate! Remember, Jones, that _I_ hold all of the cards. The fate of your little whore rests in _my_ hands and _my_ hands alone! All I have to do is give the nod, and Father will sign the order for her deletion!"

Smith's words were the final straw. After so many decades of being under his thumb, enduring his belittling criticism, the cruel remarks around the office and being passed over for promotions that he rightly earned and deserved, something inside Agent Jones just snapped.

Moving so fast that his actions were a blur, Jones' hand swiftly shot out allowing his powerful fingers to wrap themselves around Smith's scrawny neck. Next, Jones lifted Smith approximately three feet off the ground, and then slammed his boss against a concrete post.

"And you have forgotten that although I may not be the fastest of agents, I am still the strongest. I could crush your windpipe right now as if it were an empty beer can, you fucking arrogant prick! You will stay away from Lara, or I will take great pleasure in taking you apart, circuit by circuit, you miserable piece of corrupted software!" Jones was so angry that spittle flew from his clenched teeth onto Smith, who flinched when he felt the offensive matter fly into his face.

Although Smith was starting to wheeze for oxygen, he managed to come up with a witty rejoinder. "Say it, don't spray it. That's tough talk coming from someone that will soon be putting a bullet between Ms. Rodgers lovely hazel eyes. The minute I leave here, I'll be paying the Architect a visit."

It was Jones' turn to gloat. "Newsflash: I've spoken to Father about Lara and he _will not_ sign any order of deletion that you place in front him, not now, not ever! Furthermore, if you harm her or her mother in any way or even go near them, you will regret it!"

Much to Agent Smith's chagrin, Jones was right about one thing: his Herculean strength was unmatched and it was becoming worrisome. The more Smith struggled to free himself from Jones' grip, the tighter his subordinate squeezed. To make matters worse, there was no human or program nearby to claim as his Host. He had no choice: he had to break Jones' grip at all costs.

Even though Jones obviously has superior strength, I have something he does not: the brains and intelligence he will never possess even if he lives for another two hundred years. I obviously can't break his grip on my neck, but I know a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat. If I have to resort to it, I will ignore the rules of engagement and hit the big oaf right where he lives. Below the belt.

As hard as he could, Smith drove his knee into Jones' groin causing the larger man stumble back in agony and out of reach. Smith dropped to the ground, took several deep breaths, and rubbed his neck to ease his discomfort.

Smith smirked as he watched Jones grimace in agony before standing up to his full height and walk back toward him. I will say this for him, Smith thought with reluctant admiration, he certainly doesn't give up easily.

Any other thoughts left Smith's head as he felt his head snap to the side from the effect of a powerful right hook. But his adversary did not stop there. Jones rained a flurry of blows to Smith's head, stomach, and chest that would have severely incapacitated or killed a human being.

Smith stumbled backward out of reach of Jones's formidable fists to get a respite, however brief. However, Jones followed doggedly, determined to teach his boss a lesson or two. He knew it was only a matter of time before the tables were turned in Smith's favour and he sought to do as much damage as possible to Smith's lean form.

Whatever the cost, Jones was determined to pay Smith back for everything he had done; not only to himself but more importantly, the violation of Lara. If you hadn't laid your dirty hands on her, Jones seethed inwardly, we would have been dating one another long before the delay from the stalled elevator.

Jones looked at his hands and saw his opponent's blood smeared across his knuckles and sneered at Smith. Keeping Smith's gaze locked with his, Jones stuck his tongue out and licked the blood from one hand. Smith saw in Jones' eyes an expression that had never been there before: bloodlust.

Without being told, Smith knew he was in for it—big time. Now that Jones had drawn and tasted first blood in their engagement, he wanted more. Like a predator who sensed that its prey was wounded, he paced back and forth in front of Smith, trying to determine the best plan of attack.

But before he could proceed, he heard a clicking in his earpiece and pressed his finger against it to hear better. By Smith's movements, he had received the same message.

"Both of you stop this, right now!" The Architect was beside himself with rage. "How dare two of my lead agents brawl in public like a couple of boys in a schoolyard, fighting over the affections of a girl? I want your asses in my office in five minutes!"

He hung up with such force that both Jones and Smith winced. The alpha agent watched as Jones took his earpiece between his fingers and crushed it.

"We have five minutes."

Smith nodded. "We will not need any longer than that to settle this matter for the time being, don't you think?"

"Agreed."

Like two stags about to attack, both circled each other and when the opportunity presented itself, they charged.

lllll

Exactly five minutes later, Jones and Smith stood outside the door to the Architect's office. Smith turned the door handle, flinched at the pain of the effort, and allowed Jones to pass ahead of him, before closing the door behind them.

The Architect tapped his pen with impatience on the polished surface of his stainless-steel desk. With one quick glance, he scrutinized the attire of the two agents standing in front of him.

"The next time I ask for either of you to appear before me, you will do so immaculately attired, is that clear?"

"You only gave us five minutes, Father. You obviously are not aware that it takes more than the time you gave us to appear presentable—"

"Silence!" the Architect barked, throwing his pen down angrily and glaring at Smith, who had been the one to speak. "I will do the talking here, not you, so shut up until I ask you to speak!" Taking a deep breath, the older man forced himself to be calm in the presence of his two sons. "Look at you both! Your hair is in disarray. Your glasses are broken and to make matters worse, both of you are bleeding onto your suits. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"We had a disagreement, sir. That was all."

"All? _ALL_?" In an apoplectic fit of sheer, unadulterated rage, the Architect's face was now turning a mottled purple and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He slammed his fist onto his desk. "I _never_ want to hear or see you two fighting with each other again, is that clear? What I want you both to do is to shake hands—before me, here and now—and that will be the end of the bad blood between you. Do it."

Jones and Smith eyed one another with distrust. Jones' jaw dropped when Smith extended his hand out to him. The urge to snap his wrist like a twig came and went through Jones' mind. Slowly, grudgingly, aware that the Architect was diligently watching his every move, Jones put forth his hand as well.

It wasn't until their hands met in a handshake that Jones realized what Smith's true intentions were. And it wasn't forgiveness or friendship by any means. Smith squeezed his rival's hand with as much force as he was able. To an outside observer, Smith's face was bland and noncommittal—the perfect picture of a man who was willing to let bygones be bygones.

Two can play at that game, Jones thought and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Smith and increased the pressure of his own vice-like squeeze.

Both men flinched when pain shot up to their neural sensors, warning of imminent bone fracture. The fragile bones in the human hand can only take so much pressure before succumbing to the inevitable. The breakage occurred in the two men almost simultaneously, with three fingers being broken in Smith's hand while Jones suffered two.

"No hard feelings, Agent Jones?" Smith asked smoothly, and only by looking into his eyes was Jones able to tell he was in excruciating agony. The pain was intense, but none of that registered on his face. His expression was as stone-like as always.

"None at all, Agent Smith," Jones replied, following Smith's example of not allowing one iota of the pain he was feeling to show in any way.

From behind his desk, the Architect frowned. "Enough. Both of you leave my office now and report to the Infirmary. When you are done, come back here for we have another matter to discuss. I have half a mind to just let you two stand here with your broken hands and watch to see who gives in to the pain first. But this matter will need all of your undivided attention and I don't have time for your little macho games. Go."

At the Infirmary, both agents were injected with a serum that would accelerate the healing process for their injuries. They would be as good as new in a matter of minutes. While they were changing into clean, freshly pressed suits, they glared at one another. This matter between them was not resolved, not would it be the end of their hatred for one another. Not by a long shot.

"Take your seats," the Architect instructed them. When they did so, he continued. "There is a captain of a rebel ship called the _Nebuchadnezzar_. His name is Morpheus."

"How did we get this information?" asked Jones.

"A member of the crew who goes by the name of Cipher betrayed him. He wants to be re-inserted into the Matrix. I have met with him and promised that he will get what he wants in exchange for information. He will come to me tomorrow. When he gets here, I want the two of you here as well. That's it for now. Until I call for you, I don't want to see either of you again. Dismissed."

However, just before the two agents could leave the Architect called them back. "Before you go, two more things: Lara Rodgers will return to work if she so desires without provocation or intimidation from you, Smith. Second, congratulations on your engagement, Jones." He looked over the faces of his sons and saw that both were red, but because of two very different reasons; Smith's, with suppressed rage at being thwarted while Jones was suppressing an uncharacteristic blush, a small smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth which threatened to spoil his usual poker-face expression.


	16. A Favour Returned

A Favour Returned

Author's Note: It's been a LONG time (just over 2 years!) since I updated this story…At the beginning of the last chapter I posted, I said that this story had been abandoned. However, I couldn't do that. I had to finish it. There will probably be another chapter after this one but that depends if I get any reviews! However, since it's been a while, I'll be surprised if anyone remembers this story!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with the Matrix. I'm just borrowing them for a while. I wish I was making money from this but unfortunately, I'm not.

lll

Lara paced nervously back and forth in Jones' apartment. Every byte of her body was filled with worry. Where had Jones and Smith gone? Why weren't they back yet? However, despite her best efforts at keeping it at bay, one question rose above all the others: was Smith lying? Could he be the only agent capable of fathering a child?

Lara ran a hand though her still-damp hair. Even though she had bathed that morning, the memory of Smith's cold azure eyes roaming over her half-naked body left Lara feeling dirty and soiled. Perhaps a long hot soak in the tub could calm her jangled nerves and clear her head. Lara stripped and stood in the shower, letting the hot water flow over her body. She closed her eyes.

A sudden blast of cold air and Lara hastily scrubbed the soap from her eyes as she tried to see who had barged in on her.

"Goddamn you Smith, haven't you screwed up my life enough? Leave me alone!" Her eyes cleared and she saw Jones looking at her. "Oh! Where did you go?" she looked up and saw the expression on his face. "What's the matter?"

"What did Smith say to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean. What did he talk to you about?"

For the first time, Lara was tempted to lie to Jones. She fumbled around and tried to think of something to say but the words would not come. "He…he told me that we could never have a baby. He said that you were…" Lara could feel her throat closing. What man, especially one as virile as Jones, wants to hear that his seed will never bear fruit?

"That I was what?" Jones softened his expression and took Lara into his arms. "If you love me, Lara, tell me the truth. Don't lie."

"He said that you and Brown were sterile. He said that out of all the agents, he is the only one who can father a child. He even offered to perform that service for you and me." Lara flinched when she felt Jones' body stiffen and could not bring herself to look at his face and surely see the anger that was flowing through his body. "I told him exactly what he could do with his _services_."

"So that was it," Jones replied. He sighed and held Lara closer. "Unfortunately, he was right."

"But why? Why would Mother and Father do that to us?" Lara wailed. "Smith shouldn't be able to have children—_he's_ the one who should be sterile! Any child of his would be as twisted and evil as he is. It's not fair!"

"No, it's not, but it's something we'll have to live with."

Lara's eyes hardened and a plan began to form in her mind. If Mother and Father did this, she thought, then perhaps they can reverse it. It wasn't likely, but she could still hope. Her thoughts were interrupted when Jones spoke.

"Good news. I learned that you could go back to work anytime you want. I have the Architect's promise that if Smith tries anything, he will be punished."

"That is good news," Lara said, crossing her fingers behind her back for telling a lie. Going back to work was not good news in any sense of the word. "I have some errands to take care of first."

Jones checked his watch. "Speaking of which, I have to go. I'll see you at work later."

As soon as Jones had left, Lara threw on a skirt, blouse, and left. As soon as Lara sat down at her desk, she found work waiting for her. A lot of it. Apparently, this was Smith's doing as his name was at the top of every report. I guess I shouldn't complain, Lara thought as she settled in to begin the tasks ahead of her. If I don't leave my cubicle, the less chance I'll have to worry about running into him. And when I do, it will be to give him these damn spreadsheets.

Several hours into her task, Lara raised her head from her keyboard at the sound of unusual activity. Jones, Brown and Smith were talking amongst each other as they walked past the secretarial section. Several heavily armed police SWAT members followed at their heels.

All the work ceased as every eye followed what was happening.

Lara was grateful when Celia came to her. If anyone would know what was going on, it would be her. Lara didn't even have to ask.

"Something big is going down and it is very hush-hush although I did manage to find out that a human informer aboard one of the rebel ships wants to defect and be re-inserted into the Matrix."

"And that's the big deal?"

"No. This was supposed to happen tomorrow but he got scared and wanted out today. I think his cover was blown or something. Anyway, all the guys with guns are going to some seedy hotel to take the humans down. Smith is taking no chances and that's why the police are in on it too."

"All of this to jack one guy back in? Isn't that a little extreme?"

"But girlfriend, that's not all! This is to get the captain of a ship. He'll be brought back here to be interrogated. He knows the codes that Smith needs to get into the mainframe of Zion. Once that happens, it can be destroyed by the sentinels."

Lara sighed sadly. If Smith succeeded, thousands of people were going to die. If the sentinels got inside the gates of the last human refuge, there would be nothing left. Death, destruction and devastation on an almost incomprehensible scale would follow in their wake. All the humans wanted were to be free and raise their families in peace. There were more than six billion other humans in their pods. What was so threatening to the Architect about losing a few hundred batteries?

She remembered reading a file on Zion's last attack. The sentinels, multi-armed relentless killing machines, perpetrated most of their kills by tearing the refugees apart, limb from limb. Lara shivered as the visual image of that turned her stomach.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Lara murmured to Celia.

"Tell me about it."

"Say a prayer that our men come back safe and sound, okay?" Lara said.

"I'm way ahead of you," came the reply.

She looked at her long-time friend's face and saw how pale and drawn it appeared. It wasn't the best time to bring up the subject, but it had to be done. She took Celia by the elbow. "C'mon, there's no sense worrying ourselves until we have to. Let's go out for lunch and drown our worries in a glass of wine. I've got something to tell you."

lll

The battle in the rundown hotel had been brief but bloody. To Jones' disappointment, several crewmembers of the rebel ship had escaped. However, the most important member, the captain, had been taken down and into custody by Smith himself. Sitting in the helicopter beside his superior, Jones noticed that the usually fastidious Smith seemed completely unconcerned about his now-filthy suit.

Jones glanced back to ensure that the restraints that bound their captive were secure. Until they were back in the Agency building, the real work would begin. Jones hoped that the knowledge of the deaths of his crew would provide a chink in the powerfully built African-American's armour that could be exploited. Even so, the drugs that would be injected into the bloodstream would wear down the resolve of the strongest human. All it took was time.

With any luck, by dinnertime, it would be over and he could be with Lara. Jones allowed a small smile to cross his face as he envisioned a long and sensual lovemaking session with his future wife.

However, almost as quickly as it came, the smile disappeared from his chiselled features. I can give her terrific sex, Jones thought, but I cannot give her a child. I know Lara well enough by now that even though she said she told Smith what to do with his services, she wants children desperately. And after years of an empty marriage with me, the desire to be a mother at any cost will override her resolve. I can imagine that bastard just waiting for that to happen.

The helicopter landed on the heliport of the Agency Building and the prisoner was hustled out and into the interrogation room. It was time to start.

lll

Celia slumped back against the upholstered cushion of her chair as she tried to digest the enormity of what Lara had just told her. "Are you sure? Really, really, _really_ sure that this is true?"

Lara nodded. "Smith told me but I didn't believe him. I asked Jones and he confirmed it." Her lower lip trembled. "He and Brown are sterile."

Celia's dark eyes shimmered with tears and she scrubbed her cheeks angrily with the palm of her hand. "I'm going to see the Oracle. Want to come with me?"

Lara checked her watch and opened her mouth to refuse as she remembered the big stack of files on her desk, awaiting her nimble fingers to enter the data into the system. "Hell with it. Some things are more important than typing goddamn reports," she said, getting to her feet and following her friend out the door.

Celia and Lara did not speak on the way to their mother's apartment. Anger and frustration flowed through every digital byte in her body but now that she was finally here, Lara could not find the nerve to knock. She was almost tempted to return home and simply call, but the subject was too delicate and important to be put into a phone call or an email. Taking a deep breath, Lara rapped her knuckles hard on the door. From inside the apartment, Lara heard the Oracle invite them in and Lara wasted no time in making her way to the homey and warm kitchen. As usual, the air was filled with the delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies.

A broad smile was on the Oracle's face. "I was just about to go and see you, Lara. I heard the good news about your engagement."

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what, child? Excuse me, I don't want them to burn," the Oracle said, getting up and walking over to the stove. Taking a pair of oven mitts, she opened the oven door and withdrew a sheet of cookies. "Perfect."

Celia watched the interaction between her friend and the Oracle. She opened her mouth to say something but her gut told her not to—Lara seemed to have everything in hand and needed no help in expressing her dismay at the decision that had been made long ago, between the Oracle and the Architect. Celia did see a glint in her mother's eye that foretold good news. For now, it would be best to watch. And hope.

"Make it so that Brown and Jones can't father children. Why would you do that?"

"This is a special recipe, one that I think you'll appreciate."

"Mother, never mind the damn cookies! Tell me what I want to know!"

The older woman sighed and indicated with a gesture that her guests seat themselves. "When your father and I programmed the agents, we thought it was best that all of them be given the ability to have sexual relations. However, at the time, we thought it would be beneficial to the Matrix to only allow the Alpha agent to produce offspring. Neither of us knew that Smith would turn out to be a sadistic sexual predator."

"Smith is too sick and evil to be allowed to have children," Lara fumed. "What are these for?" She demanded, pointing at the cookies.

"To undo what we have done."

Lara furrowed her brow in confusion. "Will they make Smith impotent?"

Celia snorted. "Hah! It would serve him right, not being able to get it up anymore. The women of the Matrix can rest easy. All Smith will be able to do is look but don't touch…I love it!"

The Oracle frowned at her daughter's flippant remark and put the cookies into a paper bag. "No. These are not for Smith, they are for your men. These cookies will overwrite the productivity barrier programming in both Jones and Brown." The older program smiled at the look of joy on Lara's face. "You'll both be able to be mothers."

Lara leaned over and gave the Oracle a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Mother."

"My pleasure, child. Oof!" The older woman said when she felt herself embraced solidly by the arms of her Latina daughter. "And a 'you're welcome' to you too!"

"I guess we should be leaving now," Celia said as she checked her watch. "Our lunch hour is almost over."

"There's no need. Neither of you will be stepping foot into the Agency building ever again. In fact, I expect your men will be coming here very shortly. Your lives as you knew them are over." The Oracle deflected the questions that both her daughters sent her way. "No, no. Don't ask me any more. You will get your answers soon. Until Jones and Brown come through my door with their news, I suggest that we all have a drink. On second thought, make that two. This day will be one for the record books as being the most memorable in the annals of the history of the Matrix."

lll

When Jones saw Lara in the apartment, he was across the room in three large loping strides and gathered her in his arms. He savoured everything—the feel of her slim form against his body, the smell of her perfume, and the way she strained to wrap her arms around him.

For her part, Lara could feel the tenseness of his body. She did not know why he was upset; when he was ready, he would tell her. Right now, it was a time for her to be silent. Deep in her heart Lara knew that what Jones needed the most was not to answer questions, but to know that she was there for him if or when he did decide to speak.

When they parted, Lara saw the sheer and complete exhaustion in her fiancé's face. Her female intuition told her that it was all he could do to remain standing. He needed rest, the sooner the better. Reluctantly, she pulled away and guided him to the sofa. Giving her a look of gratitude, Jones fell rather than sat on the Oracle's battered and shabby couch. His hands dangled limply between his knees. Brown was leaning against the wall, his face drawn and stricken.

"Tell them. Tell them what happened." The Oracle said, looking at each of her sons in turn. "They are going to find out anyway and I think they'd rather hear it from you."

Between them, they told the tale of the disastrous events that had transpired earlier that day. The bombed lobby. The office being destroyed by helicopter gunfire. The chase through the marketplace and the showdown in the hallway. Both he and Brown had acted cowardly to say the least by running away when their superior needed their assistance the most.

"He might still be alive, if I'd let Brown go to his aid. But I was pissed at Smith for bothering Lara this morning so I held Brown back and now Smith is dead. When the human entered his body, Smith turned to us for help but all we did was stare at him and take a step back. When Smith's digital self exploded, the human looked at us. We were next on his list and I knew that if we stayed and fought, Brown and I would suffer the same fate. We ran in opposite directions. We didn't know what to do or where else to go, so we came here." Jones heard Lara's sharp intake of breath and turned his head so he wouldn't have to watch the woman he loved walk out of his life forever because of his cowardly actions. Without Lara, his life would have no purpose. "Let the upgrades delete me," he muttered. "I deserve it. I prefer to die sooner rather than later anyway." Jones removed his dark glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and leaned back onto the cushions. "Call them for me will you, Mom?"

"Call who, son?" The Oracle asked.

"The upgrades, who do you think I'm talking about? Their job is to delete programs that no longer have a purpose. I used to hunt them down and now it's my turn. Ironic, isn't it?"

"I'm not going to call anyone."

"Why the hell not? As Smith used to say, it's inevitable."

"You misunderstood me, son. I meant that if I called the upgrades, Lara will never let me hear the end of it."

"You got that right, Mom." Lara responded warmly.

Jones looked up and saw the warm hazel eyes of the woman he loved looking back at him. "You're still here? Why?"

Lara shook her head. "I will never leave you, Jones."

Jones was too stunned and surprised to form a reply.

"You stood by me when I told you about Smith raping me. I thought you would leave but you didn't. Now it's my turn."

"But what about your job?"

"My job is now is to be at your side. Forever. And the upgrades can go to hell."

Jones took Lara's hands in his. "But if you go with me, you'll be hunted too."

"I don't care. I love you…."

Jones scowled and ran his fingers through his hair in a preoccupied way. Why wasn't she listening? Lara was throwing away her whole life. Deep inside his programming, he was happier than he'd been in a long time because he knew that Lara loved him for who he was, not his position and power.

She loved him!

No matter what hardships lay ahead, she wanted to be by his side. But he had to be honest with her, ruthlessly honest. It was easy for her to say that she didn't care about the consequences, and that she'd follow him anywhere, but would she still think the same when she became hungry because there was no food and cold because there was no roof over her head?

"Damn it, you should care! The only thing I can offer you is a life of constantly being on the run. You'll always be looking over your shoulder. You deserve better." Jones swallowed. The words were hard to say but he had no choice. "Lara, please listen. All I have to my name now is the clothes on my back and my sidearm. That's it."

"Then we are even. All I have is the clothes on my back and my purse." Lara said.

"No," Jones said, shaking his head firmly. "It's not the same thing! I won't let you do it. You still have a job. You still have a purpose. Don't throw your life away because of me!"

"I'm not going back. There is nothing for me there anymore."

"I second that," Celia's strident voice broke the tension. "I hated that damn place anyway. Where Brown goes, I go too."

"That's all well and good," Brown said, putting his arm around Celia's waist. "But we have to be realistic. What will we do now?"

Lara's eyes narrowed and she looked at Jones. "Persephone owes us a favour, remember?"

"What if she doesn't…?"

"We can't think like that. She is our only hope."

"Uh," Celia broke in, "since when has Her Royal Frenchness ever cared about anyone but herself? Easy. Never. Let me spell it out for you: N-E-V-E-R."

"She will," Lara said, her tone confident and reassuring.

"Can you explain the reason why to me? Why are you so damn sure that she'll agree to help us? She's as greedy and selfish as her husband."

"Celia's got a point," Brown said softly. "And I'd like to know too."

After hesitating for a moment, Lara told her uninformed friends about the service she and Jones had performed for her in the underground parking garage on that awful night. "We stopped her from being raped by two men. She told me then that if I ever needed a favour, I could come to her."

"Doing a favour for you and Jones I can understand. But that doesn't apply to Celia and me," Brown said.

"Her husband bought a casino in Las Vegas. The Frenchman may be ruthless and selfish, but even he will appreciate the surveillance experience that two Matrix agents can provide. If worse comes to worse, you could always be bouncers in case anyone gets rowdy."

"Hell, it makes perfect sense to me," Celia said roundly. "Considering that you two can punch through concrete and dodge bullets, I think tossing some drunks out the door on their asses would be a piece of cake." She shrugged. "And he probably pays better too."

The youngest agent spoke. "I don't want to be the devil's advocate, but what if she says no? Then what do we do?"

"If she can't or won't help us, then I need your help, Brown," Lara said. "It's something I won't ask Jones to do."

"I'll do anything you need, Lara. What is it?"

Lara swallowed and looked the youngest agent right in the eyes. "If worse comes to worse and we get thrown out of the Frenchman's place, I want you to kill me. Can you do it?"

Brown nodded. "It'll be quick and clean. I promise you won't feel a thing. And I know that Jones will do that same for Celia, although I hope to hell it won't come to that."

"It won't," the Oracle said softly. "But in the meantime, I think my boys would like to enjoy a special cookie recipe that I made just for them. No, not you," she said, playfully slapping Celia's hand away. "C'mon, eat up now."

Brown tentatively sniffed at the cookie. "What does it do?"

"Trust me." The Oracle smiled, her lips curving upward in a warm smile that made her dimples flash. She saw the sceptical look on Jones' chiselled features. "All right, all right. I'll confess. After you eat these, I expect to get many beautiful grandchildren from you both."

Brown allowed a small smile to cross his face as he met Jones' eye. "At least it'll be fun making them," he said. "For _us_ anyway." He easily dodged to the side as a pillow was aimed at his head.

"Just testing to see if you've still got your reflexes, Agent Smart Ass," Celia said.

Everyone's head turned when the Architect came into the room. He ducked his head under the strings of beads that hung down from the entrance of the Oracle's kitchen. "I thought I'd find you all here. I have something to say but I think you already know what it is." When he was sure he had the complete attention of everyone in the room, he continued. "I came to let former Agent Brown and former Agent Jones know that they are scheduled to be deleted and they are to accompany me back to my office."

"NO!" shouted Lara and Celia in unison. "You can't do this!"

"It's not something that I want to do, it is something I _have_ to do. I'm sorry."

"Give them a thirty minute head start," the Oracle said. "If you do that, then I'll come back to you and be your wife again."

The Architect's mouth dropped open. The flush on his face indicated that this was something he had never foreseen. To have his wife return to her place at his side was a dream come true. During the time she'd left him was the worst two months of his entire existence. He'd been more drunk that sober and the Matrix had suffered but now that things were as they should be, he could afford to be generous to the two couples. His eyes never left those of his wife as he nodded his agreement to her terms.

"You all have one hour."

lll

"What eez the meaning of this?" The Frenchman demanded. His personal bodyguards, the Virii Twins lay on the floor, unable to get up after the short altercation with Jones and Brown.

Before the couples arrived at the Merovingian's restaurant, it was settled that Lara would do the talking when she made her request.

As always in matters of business, she was at her husband's side, impeccably coiffed and coutured in the finest French fashion. Perceptive and savvy, she was involved in all the decision-making and it was because of her intelligence and shrewd business sense that the couple were the richest people in the entire Matrix.

Lara stood beside Jones and he clasped her hand tightly. Their whole lives relied on what would transpire in the next few minutes. "We need your help."

An incredulous scoff was the reply. "I know zat already," he said smugly, slowly swirling the brandy in his snifter. "But why should I assist you?"

"If you were smart, you'd jump at the chance to have two highly trained and experienced Matrix agents as part of their security team. They are better than any human or program at spotting a cheater or someone who is counting cards."

Persephone's gaze shifted to her husband's face and she did not miss the tightening of his mouth nor the blaze of fury that sparked his eyes. She bit her lip. Lara had just made the biggest mistake of her life by openly insulting her husband.

The Merovingian smiled thinly and when he spoke, everyone could hear the sneer in his tone. "I may be a lot of things, _mademoiselle_, but being a fool is not one of them. I recognize the benefits of having Agents Jones and Brown work for me, as well as Miss Alvarez. I could use their talents and training but you are another story. I would have no use for _you_. As Ms Alvarez is the office manager for the secretarial pool, she has supervisory skills that will be useful to me. You, however, are nothing more than a typist." He smirked, thoroughly enjoying the stricken look on her face. He'd shot a bolt she never saw coming.

"No! You can't do this!" Lara shouted but her anger dwindled at the icy rage that radiated from the Merovingian like a palpable aura.

"Do not tell me what I can or cannot do in my own place," he warned her. "Send the others in but take her away."

"But…you owe us," she whispered, her throat closing and preventing her from speaking.

"What are you babbling about? I do not owe you anything."

The Twins glanced sidelong at each other but said nothing. They knew some of the details of what had occurred that night from what they saw for themselves—the missing jewellery, the torn dress and the shattered look on their mistress' face. Between them, they pieced together what happened and what _might _have happened. Persephone in particular owed Jones and Lara big time.

Jones released Lara's hand and strode forward to where the Merovingian and his wife sat. He leaned forward until there was less than a foot of air between his face and Persephone's. She was startled but held her seat although she quaked to the soles of her Bruno Magli shoes. "Have you forgotten what Lara and I did for you already?" Jones snarled. "You would have suffered the worst and you know it, you ungrateful bitch.

Persephone swallowed, unable to hold Jones' furious gaze any longer, and by sheer force of will, buried her apprehension as deep within her programming as she could. Still, it was not enough to make her forget. She never told her husband what had nearly happened in the parking garage but she remembered the hard grip of the mugger on her body, ripping her dress down, his rough fingers pinching her nipples, his hands groping her breasts…and what would have happened if Jones and Lara hadn't arrived when they did.

She blinked quickly, forcing the images away as she paid attention to what was going on around her now. Four lives depended on her. If she refused their appeal for help, all of them would be killed by the upgrades in a matter of hours. Her eyes looked down as she remembered the time when she and The Merovingian had stood in the same place centuries before, asking for help. It had been so long ago…they were so deeply in love. And desperate. Desperate to survive, despite the overwhelming odds againstthem.

"There is a heliport on the roof. My love," Persephone said, "would you radio the pilot that he is to take four passengers?"

The Merovingian pursed his lips tightly together. "But I ordered that she stay behind. I don't speak to hear myself talk. When I give orders, I expect them to be obeyed."

"All or none," she said. Before he could open his mouth to dispute the matter further, Persephone's control snapped. "If Lara Rodgers does not go with her friends, then I will divorce you and get half of everything. Which is it to be?"

The Frenchman swallowed his gall as his wife threatened to remove him his one Achilles heel: his wealth and power. Before everyone in the room, he was silenced and helpless. He nodded his head and rose from the table to carry out his wife's instructions. He looked at the Twins with an arch of his carefully manicured eyebrow and they accompanied him, one at either shoulder. They glanced over their shoulders at Persephone and they understood one another. A wrong had been set right.


End file.
